Best (Friends) Forever
by Kat Dakuu
Summary: They say the triangle is the strongest shape. No single side bears the full weight as each leans against the other. Gilbert, Antonio, and Francis are BFFs who just moved in together. Will their friendship survive a whirlwind romance and their individual troubles? Human au.
1. Chapter 1

AN: I'm going to make this note right off the bat. The title should be written with 'friends' crossed out but that format seems not to be supported. I like the title too much like that to change it to something else.

And yes, I have started another long fic (expect a novel). This one will update far more regularly I'm sure though.

A threesome lies within. Beware of the kinks.

* * *

"Quit making a ruckus out there will ya!" Gilbert snapped from the couch floating in the otherwise empty room. A rather dignified whine drifted from the doorway. Gilbert didn't know how a whine could sound dignified, but Francis managed it.

"Your couch isn't the only piece of furniture we have, Gil! This doorway…my god, this would be easier if I had some _help,_" the blonde continued to complain. His grunts drowned in a sea of thumps and scruffs. Gilbert watched Francis push from behind at a brown vanity set with white trim, its mirror taped up in bubble wrap. He raised an eyebrow as the object continued to catch on the slight raised edge of the doorway.

"Wow Francis. Your stuff is really pretty!" Antonio grinned as he walked up. The other two turned in time to see him blow the cute taxi driver a kiss. He picked up a battered brown travel case from the curb, a knapsack already slung across his back. Still grinning, he peeked into the U-haul truck. It was the small rentable kind and Francis jammed it full of all sorts of goodies. "Sure must be nice being rich."

"Yes, yes it is. But money isn't doing me much good right now. You're late." In retrospect, Francis should have tried pulling the vanity in from the front. He could carry the relatively small object fine except he couldn't fit it and himself through the doorway. Now he couldn't get past the piece of furniture to try dragging. Sighing at the thing in frustration, he placed his hands on his hips. In reality, he wasn't glaring at the furniture. His eyes were on a certain younger male lounging across the back of the couch—so far the only furniture to make it inside.

"Sorry! A friend called." Antonio dropped his luggage to aide Francis, not that it did much good. The front end still wouldn't lift over the ledge. The two grunted together and Gilbert offered a bright smile and thumbs up, not even blinking when Francis whispered murderous phrases in his direction. The vanity bumped into the white door frame.

"Ah, ow! My finger!"

Once again, the furniture righted itself in the middle of the doorway. "Gilbert, you useless bastard. Help out already! We promised to move in _together._" Blue eyes searched the lazy man's face. "Not just take in our own things. You promised."

Gilbert's smile twitched, going from smirkish, to falsely happy, to pouty in a span of three seconds. He blinked once, his only sign of surprise. Francis shot down his argument before he could even speak it and it still surprised him how after one year, someone could guess his next words so well. He wouldn't show it, but Francis made him feel a little guilty. Gilbert and Antonio didn't have a lot to chip in, but they all insisted on renting the house together. Francis currently footed most of the bill along with supplying furniture and cooking utensils (he was very picky about them after all).

Francis gestured behind him to the U-haul. "If you don't want my things, you can sleep on that couch and I'll take this all back." Of course, letting go with one hand caused the vanity to slip and Antonio flailed under the weight, barely saving the mirror from smashing into the wall.

"Francis!"

"Sorry…" he muttered and replaced his hand.

Gilbert sighed as if in no hurry, but he crossed half the room before Antonio finished stabilizing the vanity. "Fine, fine. But only because you weaklings can't manage without my awesome self. If you beg me, I mi–"

"Gilbert!" two voices wailed.

He grabbed the front end and within seconds they pulled the thing inside and set it against a wall in the larger bedroom. Francis claimed that one beforehand, leaving the smaller, connected rooms for his friends.

"Well come on, there's more isn't there?" Gilbert exclaimed. He led the way outside, stifling a self-satisfied laugh as if he just won an award instead of moved a small piece of furniture. Francis and Antonio exchanged a look and came to the same thought. _What a fake noise. _But they were used to Gilbert stroking his ego and they let him because he couldn't function without it. They would always be there to knock him right off the ladder if he got too full of himself. Seeing Gilbert admire his arm muscles as he hopped into the truck's back, Francis thought he was getting dangerously close to that limit.

Not noticing the looks being thrown his way, Gilbert moved to the largest piece and hefted it over the edge into the waiting hands. He may not have looked it, but the man could lift his weight and then some. All three stood about the same height, Francis being the tallest by a smidge. As the oldest and bearded one, he looked like the strongest at first glance. Though lanky, he had broad shoulders and hair on his chest. Compared to Francis, Gilbert was pale and slight. Young too, though he managed not to look it with his sharp face that few saw soften. The physical strength didn't match his body or personality at all. Antonio wanted to ask his secret.

With Gilbert and Francis on opposite sides and Antonio helping where needed, even the heaviest pieces were no match. An hour later, they finished the two loads it took. The house remained sparsely furnished since the rest was up to Antonio and Gilbert and a later shopping date, but it felt real now—truly theirs. Beds, two dressers, a kitchen and small coffee table, plus a few other boxes finished everything.

Francis closed the door and they blinked at each other. One second passed, full of childish grins and shared air, then they fell strewn across the room. Gilbert landed on the couch again, this time on his stomach, arms hanging over the side. He smiled with real happiness. "Isn't it great to do things with your own hands?"

Francis looked at him in bafflement from the rolled up rug he lay against. He started to shake his head no, but Antonio butted in first. "Why _were _we moving the furniture ourselves? You couldn't hire some people?"

A surprisingly smart question. Eyes turned to the brunette now sitting on the floor, rubbing his arms. Antonio wasn't complaining really. He shared Gilbert's sentiment that handmade craft and hard work meant more, but it was siesta time and he didn't plan to move truck-loads of furniture during it. He could be strong some time later when it mattered. At least he had the others to help. Moving by himself would be no fun at all. This was strangely fun.

Francis grinned nervously, pulling a hand through his long waves to free them from a ponytail. "…This was the best I could get so short notice. My parents don't spoil me as much as you think."

Antonio patted the other man on the shoulder, his look understanding. "There, there…I understand. It's all Gilbert's fault."

"W-what? Why me!?" Gilbert yelped. He balled up his fist but realized they both sat out of reach and he didn't want to move. Instead, he crossed his arms with eyes narrowed in a glare. Odd-toned reddish slits, like something demonic, had a way of persuading.

"Because you waited until the last minute to finish the paperwork," Francis sighed, not batting an eyelash. He was too tired to yell and instead stared up at the ceiling. If he unfocused his eyes enough, he could almost imagine a crystal chandelier hanging in the center instead of a drab brown fan. Was it possible to convince his parents chandeliers were essential? "I knew I shouldn't have entrusted it to you." Gilbert got back from summer break earlier than his friends though, being forced onto a flight weeks before school started because of cheapness. Despite not applying himself often, he had a neat, orderly way that got the necessary things done on time. If nothing else.

"Whatever, I finished on time didn't I?"

"Sí…" The Spanish word drifted off. The fact Antonio slipped into Spanish at all turned their heads.

"Did you…fall asleep Toni?"

No response. Francis turned back to Gilbert and tsked, smiling despite his look of exasperation. Gilbert chuckled back. "We might as well take a nap too. That retard isn't going to wake up until he's hungry. Late lunch sound good?"

"Hm," Francis hummed in agreement. "But share the couch will you? I can't sleep on the floor!" He offered his hand to Gilbert. The younger man sneered, but finally grabbed Francis' hand and yanked him onto the greying navy cushions.

"Whatever, just–" As if on cue, Francis inched toward him, one hand nearly around Gilbert's waist before he swatted it away. "Keep your hands to yourself! No cuddling. You get that cushion and if your hands cross over to my side, I'll cut them off. Got it?" he snarled.

"Stingy!" Francis pouted and rubbed his hand as if the swat injured him deeply. "How skinny do you think I am? I deserve more than one corner!" He tried to scoot over more, but the smaller man jabbed a foot in his side to keep his two cushions to himself.

With his eyes closed, Gilbert sat half curled on the seat with one leg still on the floor and his head pillowed on the armrest. "My couch…" he muttered, already feeling himself drift off.

Finally Francis huffed and gave up, crossing his arms and resting his head back on the couch top. He breathed in deep to relax his body. "Smells funny."

Gilbert's foot connected with his side one more time before the two settled into sleep. They shifted somewhere in their unconsciousness until Francis toppled over Gilbert whose torso lay stomach down, lower body twisted the other way, and knees bent over the arm rest. Their heads met in the center cushion, not that either noticed. Antonio didn't plan to tell them either.


	2. Chapter 2

"Gilbert! Gil you have to wake up!" Francis pounded on the other's door. It was eight in the morning and he did not want to be awake. He shouldn't have been considering his Monday class started at 10:30. Unfortunately, someone's alarm filled the house with some kind of vile German metal. "If you're late to class, you can't use my shoulder to cry on. No…that's not the problem," he chided himself. "If you're going to skip on the first day, at least turn your alarm off!"

A muffled, groaning growl answered him. Francis dragged in a deep breath, ready to unleash it on his sleeping friend. Right then, Antonio walked out of the bathroom, yawning and running a hand through his messy, wet curls. Other than a pair of hip hugging dark jeans, he wore nothing. A red towel hung over his neck and a lone drop of water twisted down his tanned torso.

"Hm? What's wrong, Francis?" Antonio asked. He raised his hand as if to yawn again, but after an expectant second, he lowered it and smiled instead. His green eyes fixed on the closed door and he nodded once. Antonio may have loved mornings and woke up at this hour for himself, but he knew neither of his housemates enjoyed them. Gilbert especially struggled to pass classes. Multiple reasons were at fault with that kid, but at least a few of them stemmed from an allergy to mornings. "Oh Gil…whatever are we going to do with you?"

Francis sighed and banged his fist on the door when the alarm started up again. "The worst part? He locked the door! Otherwise, I'd drag him out and toss him on the doorstep as is," Francis said as if to Antonio, but he raised his voice loud enough to be heard through the door. The resulting squeak informed them Gilbert got the message. Francis chuckled under his breath. Gilbert cared too much about his image, even compared to Francis. He didn't need to squeak like a girl whose skirt just lifted in a breeze because of this. Or did Gilbert sleep in only boxers? Images danced through Francis' mind. The pale man tangled in his dark sheets, white hair haloed on the pillow. His thin legs parted slightly to reveal snug black shorts that accented what lay beneath. Maybe he slept in nothing at all. Francis flushed and swallowed back the drool trying to leak out. He blinked multiple times to find Antonio staring expressionlessly at him.

"Pervert." Gilbert probably did the smart thing locking his door considering Francis' growing desire to jump him some unexpected morning. Antonio waved this off though and a second later smiled like his usual helpful self. "If you want in, he didn't lock the connecting doors from his side."

"The details you notice astound me. You weren't planning anything were you?" Francis muttered with widened eyes.

"Me? Oh no…I'll leave the planning to you. You're much better at it, but make sure to let me know when you do," Antonio grinned, his normally unfocused eyes sharp and full of something unreadable. Francis grinned back, nodding that he understood. Antonio flashed another smile. "Because I really want to see how you look without fingers!"

Francis' face twisted. "You brat!" He reached for the towel around Antonio's neck just as the door cracked open. Both men turned in confusion before a voice exploded through the small opening.

"Damn Dummkopf! Stop being so loud!" Gilbert's phone flew through the crack and into Francis' head. He tripped back, hand flying to cover the stinging pain. Francis shot him a wounded look, but it fell short of useful when Gilbert tried to slam the door closed again. He grabbed it last second. "Oh no you don't! You're getting up and going to school if I have to drag you to class myself!"

"You wouldn't dare!"

Francis huffed, a look of pride crossing over his face. "I most definitely would."

Antonio shook his head and unwound his towel from where it choked his neck. Crouching, he snatched up Gilbert's phone. After switching off the alarm, he moved his attention to the photo albums unsurprisingly filled with selfies. Almost as many were of a muscular blonde he knew to be Gilbert's little brother, Ludwig. And then, there were the pictures of Germany taken out a plane window and at least a dozen pictures of his bird. Antonio sent the most embarrassing selfies to himself as his two friends continued to fight.

Gilbert finally got the door closed all the way and for half a minute, he stayed silent in the dark. Francis fumed on the other side, busy nursing his sore head and trying to reattach a handful of hair strands. He gathered his voice for another bout of yelling, but Gilbert cracked the door open.

"Make me pancakes?" He always made Ludwig pancakes before school, so what if he wanted someone to treat him now?

Francis stayed silent for a bit, his eyes searching the ghostly face standing out in the dark. Antonio stared up at them and the two met eyes before Francis shrugged. "Give me fifteen minutes. When's your class?" he asked as he drifted toward the kitchen. Gilbert followed after as if they hadn't been fighting a minute earlier. Antonio smiled when he saw Gilbert wore a childish blue pajama set with duckies all over the pants and a big duck with a crown on the front.

"It starts at 9:30. I'm gonna go shower."

"Just one question!" Francis called before Gilbert slipped too far away. "Strawberries or no?"

Gilbert grinned. "Blueberries."

xXx

"Sometimes I feel like a parent," Francis sighed. Antonio looked up from his omelet, fork half way to his mouth. Gilbert already whirled in and out of the kitchen, the pancakes folded into a plastic bag with powdered sugar instead of syrup. Just like asked, Francis mixed blueberries into the batter as well as scattered a few on top, though he grumbled the entire way. Gilbert spent thirty minutes in the bathroom fixing his hair into a state that still looked like his pet nested in it and his jacket sported a price-tag. He forgot the textbook he carried with him to the table and Antonio rested his breakfast plate on top of it. "I have a hard time believing he's an older brother."

Antonio swallowed his bite down with a gulp of orange juice. "Really? Have you seen how many pictures of Ludwig he has on his phone?" He saw the older-brotherness in small moments when Gilbert didn't think anyone watched or in the drunken gushing. He missed home. He missed _Ludwig. _

Francis chuckled. "That has something to do with being brothers? How many pictures do you have of Lovino still?" Antonio's eyes hardened. With practiced ease, he set his fork down with a plink. Francis glanced over. "Was that bad? Just…I thought you two still talked."

It took Antonio nearly a full minute to respond. In that time, his face remained blank. Then he broke out in a bright smile, voice pitching high as he waved a hand in excitement. "I'm sure we are. He hasn't answered my last three calls, but Feli says he's busy with school. Senior year is coming up for them. Remember how it was for us? Toughest days of our lives!" He laughed because there was never a moment Antonio couldn't laugh. When he looked down at his half eaten, artfully created omelet though, his stomach churned. He should have made oatmeal after all.

"Sorry," Francis sighed.

Antonio just continued to smile as if his eyes weren't dull and his fists forgottenly clenched. "It's to be expected after…everything that's happened. You can't blame him for it." Antonio fully believed that, no matter how bad it hurt. Lovino was never to blame. Antonio didn't know who to blame though. Not himself, or his family, just…people. They turned stories into fantasies spun from spider webs, hungry for a catch. If Lovino thought the same lies about him that everyone else did, Antonio wouldn't be able to smile. He prized his smile more than anything else so he didn't want to lose it. Who else would cheer up his friends and the sad drunks he sometimes met in bars, flirting with, but really just sharing sunshine? It would be wrong if the world stole his sunshine too.

Francis brushed a hand along Antonio's shoulder as the brunette stood. "Are you sure you're okay?" The problem with Antonio's smile was no matter how long Francis knew him, he still struggled to tell the difference between the real and fake ones. Did he get over his ghosts easily or just shove them under the surface? Both happened just as often, but not often enough for Francis to understand. Antonio of a thousand emotions and one face. They should write a poem about him. And he just nodded his head and flitted out of the room. Francis sighed and finished his breakfast.

By the time the older male reappeared to get his day started, the usual atmosphere of the home returned. Antonio lay across the couch with his laptop and a book sprawled on top of him, one earbud hanging from his right ear. He glanced at Francis then started waggling his eyebrows. "Do you have a date tonight?"

Francis scoffed and didn't bother trying to understand how Antonio figured that out so quick. The younger man's eyes tilted down to his shoes and Francis stifled a laugh, palm hitting his face. "You never cease to amaze me." Of course he wore his fancy shoes. His classes ran until the time he planned to meet a rather magical blonde by the name of Clarine, so he packed a change of clothes. The shoes proved too bulky though so he planned to wear them all day and maybe, just maybe he spent extra time on his hair.

Antonio continued to chuckle as he waved Francis off like a parent to his kid despite being a year younger. "Have fun! Don't let this one slap you!" Francis' glare passed over him uselessly.

"Don't worry, I learned to tell them from the start that my heart's taken by another." The door slammed shut after him. Antonio rested until he heard the car hum off into the distance, then he stretched out and stared back at his computer screen. While his friends struggled with their first day of the new semester, he did his own job research. He couldn't work at the grocery mart for the rest of his life. He just needed a little more money so he could chase his dreams. And then when Gilbert came home, they could go to the store and buy some plants. Start a garden; start a new green life. Antonio let out a blissful sigh. It's what they were all looking for.

xXx

Gilbert stared at the auditorium ceiling, wondering if he could launch a pencil high enough to get stuck in the rafters. Thoughts about pencil mass, velocity, and exerted force flicked through his mind. Calculations that weren't quite calculations, but rather instinct came naturally to him. His eyes narrowed as he pulled his arm back. At the last second, his smirk fell and he dropped his pencil back to the little swivel table attached to his padded chair. He only brought one pencil today and he needed it for his English Comp class after this lecture from snooze-ville.

Finally the professor flicked off the last slide of irrelevant American crap and released the class. If not for culturally enriching classes being a core requirement and Gilbert still an undecided major, he would never take the class. At least the first day finished without him committing a crime. Only three months left.

Since he sat in one of the last rows, Gilbert made it out the door before the swelling crowd behind him. The floor length windows shocked his eyes after so long in dark. He cursed, snapping a pair of sunglasses down from their place on top of his head. Fellow students glanced at him with interest and distaste in their eyes. He earned looks everywhere he went, being the only pure white god of albinism in the school. If he had to wear sunglasses inside to save his eyes some pain, then he'd flaunt it. Gilbert grinned with all the self-satisfaction of a king and strutted over to a bench. He flopped onto his back and basked in the shade. A few seconds later, the shadows darkened and he flung his eyes open again, body tensing. An unfamiliar face looked down at him, but he recognized the ponytail. He rolled his eyes at it not ten minutes ago. The owner sat three seats over in the auditorium and Gilbert now had the chance to appreciate the boy's height.

"I heard about a German kid with white hair from my girlfriend. They say you have red eyes too," the guy snickered. Two others paused to watch the scene. Gilbert still lounged, but his every muscle coiled as his face split in a slow grin. Ponytail spoke like a typical bully of all talk, no bite. Gilbert imagined his girlfriend bossing him around the bedroom. The guy was curious and trying to sound intimidating to hide it. Gilbert could read that all in the time it took him to exhale. He would give the audience just what they came for.

He tipped his sunglasses down despite the glare coming straight ahead from a window. Gilbert didn't blink, just stared the guy right in the face. "These are the bonafide eyes of a demon. Stare into them and die," he growled.

"No shit!" Ponytail exclaimed. "You wear contacts right? There's no way!"

_Dude, I__'__m albino. _Gilbert would have rolled his eyes if not busy weaving a spell. _I burn in the sun like alcohol under a match and my eyes scream with problem after problem. What__'__s special about that? _But he kept quiet. He smirked even as his eyes watered. "Why do you think I have to wear sunglasses?" Oh the uneducated masses. A few more onlookers hovered now and Ponytail shifted nervously. He grinned, but it kept twitching. With a slightly crooked finger, Gilbert pointed at Ponytail. He touched the tip of the finger to his forehead and said, "Die."

Ponytail flailed back. "W-what the hell dude?! Freak!" He got out of there fast, throwing a third finger over his shoulder. It did nothing to muffle the snickers now thrown at him. Gilbert pushed his sunglasses back into place and waited for the crowd to disperse. When it did, he spun toward the wall and screamed silently into his hands. Tears pricked at the corners of his stinging eyes. _Evil sunlight! God, my eyes aren__'__t even all red! _Not enough people looked close to see such details though. He supposed the amount of blue in his eyes didn't stop them from reading as red. Red eyed albinos were supposed to be a myth, but Gilbert had a way of being special. As he settled back onto the bench, he remembered pulling the same rouse with Francis and Antonio the first day they met. He lay there as the memory washed over him with a gentle sweep.

_Music thumped through the smokey, half-lit air. Sweat and alcohol created a familiar reek that even a foreigner with no friends could relax into. No matter what country, a club was a club. Getting drunk was getting drunk, and this was one of the finest places in Los Angeles to do it. Gilbert had a mass of bodies around him, girls, boys, and one that might have been a transvestite. He didn't look close enough at the face to tell. Leather upholstery pressed against the stripe of skin at his lower back between the black skinny jeans he wore and the graphic tee bunched up around his toned stomach. He sat in the middle of a booth filled with college students and more arrived with each passing second._

_ "__Mon ami's, what kind of party is this?__"__ A man with long blonde waves called as he waltzed in. A tan brunette waved from a step behind. __"__Everyone's sitting. Dance! And someone order a bottle of wine.__"__ These two newcomers were all it took to throw everyone into a true clubbing __mood. People danced and drank. Gilbert did a real sexy number with the girl who invited him to the party. She whirled away before long though and he didn__'__t mind. He didn__'__t remember her name. _

_Finally, the heat got to be too much and Gilbert collapsed to the booth again. He pressed a cold beer to his cheek, letting his eyes shut as his head fell against the upholstery. For seconds, all he heard was his blood in his ears. Then conversation drifted over to him. Gilbert's eyes cracked open. Them? Two familiar figures occupied the opposite side of the booth, huddled together though they were the only others sitting. Gilbert huffed. Go figure. They were the most dead set on dancing the night away and here they were chatting and sipping wine like sophisticated gentleman instead of college students. Gilbert couldn't help but eavesdrop._

_ "__No, the one in the purple sequined dress is hotter. I can spot a pair of perfect breasts from across a room, even in a badly fit dress,__" __the blonde nodded._

_The other hummed, maybe in agreement or in disagreement. Gilbert couldn't tell. __"__The guy she's dancing with has better hair.__"_

_ Low laughter. __"__I'll give you that.__" __The blonde raised his glass to point at a couple by the bar. __"__I__'__ll bet you ten bucks Madison goes home with Kyle. He__'__s been chasing her for a month and he__'__s finally gonna get lucky!__"_

_ Gilbert flipped his head to the side and found the couple the other two watched. Madison straddled a young man__'__s lap whose attention focused entirely on her. She looked to be a seven in hotness, but Kyle could be a nine with a little more height. She made up for her lack in looks by flaunting herself with tasteful clothes and even more tasteful body movements. Every tilt of her head sent that silken black hair sliding across a boney shoulder and she twisted her torso like a model. When she leaned forward against his chest, hands in his hair as she licked her lips, Gilbert decided she was an eight after all. Still, she wasted her gestures. Kyle couldn__'__t see them and she couldn__'__t see his face with how far she leaned over his shoulder. The motion didn__'__t match someone who looked as experienced at seducing as she. Even the curly-haired, freckle boy on the next stool didn__'__t look at her. Gilbert__'__s eyes narrowed. _

_ "__I__'__ll bet you twenty she doesn__'__t,__" __he cut in, eyes still on the bar. The pair opposite him silenced and he tilted toward them after a second. Because of the strobe lights and flashing throb of color, he wore sunglasses even in this dim room. It made distinguishing much about the other two difficult, but they looked surprised. Finally, the brunette__'__s face broke out in a smile that made Gilbert__'__s sunglasses feel useless. _

_ "__I__'__ll take you up on that!__" __He thrust out his hand to make the deal official and Gilbert shook it. The blonde pondered a second before declining to take part in the bet. Five minutes later, Freckle-boy caught Madison__'__s eye and sparks flew bright enough for them to see half way across the room. They quickly looked away. She excused herself first when Kyle asked if she wanted another drink. Freckle-boy slipped out after, using the same door to the club__'__s back._

_ Gilbert grinned at his companions who stared back in shock. __"__Amazing! How__'__d you know?__" __The blonde asked. His friend passed over a pre-written IOU without hesitation, baffling Gilbert. He shrugged and explained._

_ "__When you__'__ve got a hot guy like that under you, you pay attention. She was watching the guy next to him. Obviously she knew he wanted her and used him to get near his friend.__" _

_ "__Very impressive. I__'__m Francis and this here__'__s Antonio. You?__"_

_ "__Gilbert. Nice to meet ya and__…__thanks for the money?__" __he questioned._

_ Antonio just beckoned him with a hand, still grinning. __"__No prob. Slide on over here. We could use an extra set of eyes. Now__…__about that lonely Kyle. How much do you want to bet I can seduce him into my bed?__" _

_ Money flew down on the table and the three laughed together as if they did this every night. Antonio did in fact go home with Kyle despite Francis insisting he was straight until the end. Francis nabbed a girl with a blonde bob cut and bright eyes. Gilbert danced until he passed out on the dance floor and stayed hungover until after he missed his Monday classes. And he just laughed__—__even when his new friends teased him later about saying he had demon eyes and that when the full moon came out, he__'__d grow the one wing of a fallen and consume the souls of broken-hearted humans. Francis simply answered, __"__Good luck, but please eat Antonio first!__"_

Of course it wasn't until a week later that they really became friends. Gilbert learned Francis was in his final year of undergrad, unlike Gilbert in his first. Antonio dropped out from the community college and couch surfed among his friends. Those two had a hell of a reputation around the school and it made Gilbert instantly like them. The next weekend, they met at the same club and escaped to the roof for a smoke. Under the twilight glare, they played around like a couple of troublesome kids. Antonio begged to see Gilbert's 'demon eyes' and stole his glasses. It left him cursing his photosensitivity, tearing and suddenly self-conscious. The three shared a moment. The self proclaimed amazing demon turned out to be no less human than they. No less alone in a sea of attention. That moment bonded them together as best friends.

Out there on the roof, they realized they shared something more than a taste in alcohol and pretty faces. Something everyone else in the club couldn't understand. Those people invited them to their parties, back home to their beds, stole strawberry kisses and carefree laughs. But still the three stood alone because they were society's lepers. They didn't know each other's story at the time, but their eyes said one existed. Instead, they laughed and Gilbert put his sunglasses back on. A cigarette toast sealed their promise for the rest of eternity.

_"__To never be alone.__"_

* * *

(Yes, when you see random names, they are OCs. They will remain sprinkled throughout this story in various levels of importance.)


	3. Chapter 3

After a busy week, the weekend brought the three together again. "My awesome friends, I've got the movies!" Gilbert yelled from next to the tv. Right on cue, Antonio pushed open the door and lifted three grocery bags into the air.

"And I've got the drinks!" He kicked the door closed behind him and smiled when Francis joined them in the room.

"Ah good, good. I've started dinner. Shall we open a bottle while we wait?" Francis wiped his hands on a towel before tossing it over his shoulder. The other two nodded, though Gilbert opened his mouth to add something in. "A bottle of beer for Gil and wine for us sophisticated people." Francis nodded to himself, feeling pleased to once again steal the words from his friend's mouth. Raising one eyebrow, he tilted his eyes to meet olive colored ones. "Antonio?"

"I'm on it!" The cheerful man hurried into the kitchen and rummaged for glasses in Francis' overly complicated cabinet organization. Some days, he just wanted to switch a glass here and a bowl there and let it grow natural like a garden. Shaking his head, Antonio snatched up the proper glasses and left the rest in their pristine rows like he always did. Francis of course had no idea the thoughts that went on behind his smile. "Let me help out with dinner too," Antonio begged as he tipped exact amounts of shiraz into their glasses. He popped open a beer and passed it to Gilbert who moved into the entryway.

The youngest of them sipped some of the amber liquid before his face broke into a smile. For a second, Antonio stared with his hand still holding the bottle cap. "My favorite kind! Thanks Toni, you're the best." Gilbert's strange colored eyes shone with the unbridled sort of happiness they rarely got to see. Sure he smiled, but not often so like a child. He did get a good sleep last night though. Antonio noticed those kinds of things. Gilbert blinked, then returned to normal. "Can I help cook too?" he asked, dragging Antonio out of his thoughts.

Francis whirled around from his cutting board and perfect round tomatoes. "Please don't. Antonio is more than enough help. We ah…appreciate the offer, but…" He blinked closed his eyes with a tight-lipped smile and charming tilt of his head. The half tied back waves of wheat blonde hair just added to the affect. Gilbert tried not to gag. Instead, he sent a glare that dared Francis to finish his sentence. The blonde looked away, obviously daunted enough. Unfortunately, one in the room was immune to all red-eyed glares.

"What he means is your cooking is fine. If it's things you know how to cook. Oh you're great at some things, Gilly, but you wouldn't be any help to us right now, kay?" Antonio burst out with a bright smile that didn't match his words at all.

Gilbert's eyes went wide and he sputtered for a few seconds before howling. "F-fine! I like being alone anyway. No one said I _liked _cooking!" A second later, he stormed out of the room. The other two listened to his stomps which ended in a thunk and squeaking couch springs. Francis looked at Antonio, a strange expression on his face. He very nearly asked if Antonio knew how harsh he sounded or if he spoke with bluntness to be kind in some way. Francis found Gilbert's reaction amusing though so he just went with it. After all, when they solidified their friendship on that nameless club roof one year ago, they promised if any of them tried to get too much higher than the others that they would drive back there and shove him off the roof. Francis smiled at the memories from that haze of cigarette smoke and alcohol that made them who they were. This was their relationship, good or bad. Perhaps he should just call it balanced.

Gunshots burst from the living room and Francis jumped. _Call of Duty _Antonio mouthed before they turned back to cooking and the kitchen settled with an amicable air. The two cooks chatted as they passed ingredients between them. "Don't you think Gilbert seems happy today?" Francis started.

"Sí! So you noticed it too?" Antonio grinned. He thought he was the only one with his head in the clouds enough to observe the degrees of his friends' smiles. Francis just chuckled. He noticed it when the other man turned. The look only stayed there for a second before he and Gilbert started nagging, but what a look it had been. The two shared more arguments than Antonio did with either of them, but this too left a soft smile on Francis' face. He enjoyed every bicker and whine and he knew Gilbert did as well.

"What about you, Antonio? Are you happy?"

At that, Antonio threw back his head and laughed. Not the sort of laugh he often let loose, but something wild and not childish at all. "I've had more fun here than I've had in years," he admitted. "I knew we were meant to live together."

Francis hummed at that. "I was a little worried. Like we would get sick of each other. You know they say living with your best friends can be the surest way to break a friendship." He focused on the green onions he currently chopped. Maybe he said something more serious than he meant to, but he knew his friends' bad points. He had his own and even though the three all found each other such a short time ago, he felt as if they knew each other their whole lives. Like they knew every fact and nuance of each other's personalities. Of course that couldn't be true. Even Antonio whom he met ten years ago still had secrets lurking around in his brain. Half the time, Francis didn't understand him at all with his weird smiles and words that could be interpreted in ten different ways. German born Gilbert with his flaky English could be understood better.

"Really?" Antonio asked in that bright voice of his. His arms snuck around Francis as he leaned against the other man's back, chin resting on his shoulder. "But we promised to be best friends forever. And you know how I feel about broken promises." Antonio smiled too brightly, his breath hot against Francis' ear.

Francis shook his head and turned in the man's embrace to brush a hand along his jaw. "Don't tempt your elders," he whispered before pressing a kiss to Antonio's cheek. The brunette just laughed and twisted his face to look scandalized. Francis rolled his eyes and let out a huff. "That's enough out of you! Normally a little wine wouldn't make you this horny," Francis chided without sounding the least bit bothered. He plucked the wineglass from the other's hand, then ducked out of his arms. Antonio let him go without a fuss. After setting down the glass, Francis picked up his knife again. Not that he got much work done when Antonio's hand grazed against his thigh on the way to recapture the wine glass. Francis jumped at the touch and watched Antonio sip with challenge in his eyes. Did he do that on purpose?

Antonio answered in his own way. "I'm not horny unless you want me to be. Can't a guy just hug a friend when his face gets too serious?" After a second, Francis realized both meanings he hinted at. Just a hug, but there was always the possibility of more than a hug if Francis wanted it. A horny Antonio could be one of the best things of any given day and it wouldn't be the first time the friends fooled around together. Ever since Antonio confided his sexuality, they had their stolen moments, none more serious than the last. Francis didn't care about who he slept with, their age, or gender, as long as they were beautiful and few people had no beauty in his eyes. Antonio reached for him, but Francis pulled back at the last second.

"Now, now…Gilbert is in the next room. What would his face look like if he saw us fucking on the countertop?"

"Cute?" Antonio tilted his head, smiling.

Francis chuckled at that and swatted Antonio's butt with his towel. That _would _be true, but he'd rather not play with fire until they had far more to drink. Normally the insane stunts waited until they couldn't draw a straight line, let alone walk on it. "And you call me the perv…" he muttered. "Now will you please chop these olives? Food is the most important!"

"Okay!" Antonio sounded no less excited about cooking than the prospect of sex and Francis knew him well enough to accept this as total truth. Same as Francis, Antonio viewed sleeping with him as a momentary pleasure. They could be no less scorned by a lost moment than missing the latest soap.

An hour later, the three men lounged on the couch, hollering at a movie. "That's fucking impossible!" Gilbert yelled as the hero jumped an extraordinary length between two buildings.

"He's a super hero!" Antonio whined back and wrapped his arms around Gilbert's neck, nearly choking him and spilling his drink at the same time. They'd moved on to a Chardonay at this point for Francis' sake. He himself lay across the entire couch length with Antonio perched on his legs. Gilbert sat on the floor between Antonio's, a pack's worth of empty bottles littering the floor around him. The line between pleasantly tipsy and drunk wavered for all three.

Gilbert burst out laughing and reached back to smack Antonio's leg multiple times. "Omg, did you see that? He totally did it! I can't believe he did it!" He kept beating his friend's leg as he pointed to the tv.

"Ah, no! Stop!" Antonio whined and not even Francis sneaking a hand into his back pocket could stop him from flailing forward to swipe at Gilbert. He moved too fast though and finally tipped the contents of his glass onto Gilbert's head. He blinked for a second as the room stilled. Even the tv's screaming dulled as Antonio put on his most sheepish grin, and he had many very effective levels of sheepish. "Oops?"

Gilbert exploded into action. "Toni!" He grabbed Antonio and a second later, the brunette went flying through the air and landed in front of Gilbert. "Arrg! Now I smell horrible!" He hissed and jumped on top of Antonio as if to attack him, but a bit of wine dripped down onto his lip. Gilbert's face twisted into one of horror. A sniffle escaped before he wailed, hands in his hair as he knelt over his friend's legs. Antonio's hands slipped up to hold onto Gilbert's hips, though mostly because he half tipped over backwards. His pout affected the wailing man as much as his hands did—Antonio guessed he didn't notice them at all.

"Ooh hoo…what's this? I heard little Gil hated wine, but this is impressive," Francis chuckled. He watched their little show, content to stay on the sidelines until now. Wine made him lazy and satisfied and the movie made him sleepy. Gilbert always picked such silly things to watch. Now Francis slid to the floor behind Gilbert, wrapping arms around him. Gilbert sunk into them, though that might have been because the person he sat on started began shifting. Francis locked eyes with Antonio and a slow smile spread across his face. "Toni, I have an idea…"

"Oh? Is it a good one?" Antonio smiled. Francis nodded. The idea couldn't be better. So good in fact, he wondered why he never tried it before. Oh right, because he liked his hands and other precious body parts attached to him. Glancing at the inebriated state of his friends, Francis decided it would work today.

Normally Antonio remained the soberest in the room. At this point, Francis couldn't tell if that rung true today as well. Antonio often had moments of drunken behavior followed with sober speech, which made others doubt his real level of drunkenness. In fact, Francis only once saw Antonio what he would call honest-to-god sloshed and he never wanted to repeat that day. The cheerful brunette had a way of staying just tipsy. Maybe today Francis just didn't feel tipsy enough. Though the way Gilbert slipped—or more of flopped—away from him and raced to find a bottle with liquid in it perfectly illustrated his usual drinking habits. Never just tipsy by the night's end.

"Need some beer!" Gilbert growled. He needed to get the vile wine taste off his lips, but every bottle he pressed to them turned up empty. "Why is the beer always gone?" And he thought himself very clever for quoting Jack Sparrow. He didn't notice Francis and Antonio trading grins behind his back. Whatever they talked about bore no importance on him, not when beer was to be had.

"Now!"

Gilbert turned then, a hum of confusion passing over his lips. His hum turned into a strangled yelp as Antonio grabbed his arms from behind and Francis pinned his legs with one hand. He held up a new bottle of wine with the other. "We're going to teach you to finally appreciate wine, so prepare yourself," Francis murmured as he climbed up Gilbert's body, blue eyes glinting with hunger.

"Huh, what? You can't be-" Francis shoved the bottle against his protesting mouth to silence him. Gilbert spluttered, nearly got his arms free before Antonio pulled him flush against his chest, then choked on the bitter-sweet wine taste. Francis lifted the bottle away and Gilbert coughed, white rivulets rolling out the corners of his mouth. His head dropped back against Antonio as the world spun. He felt too short on breath and so hot. A heavy flush painted his cheeks. "…N-no more."

Francis' eyes went wide at the sight. Gilbert's chest rose and fell with the struggle to draw in breath and his eyes held an unfamiliar glaze. Behind them, a car exploded and Gilbert coughed one last time. He freed himself to wipe the wine trail away. "Shit. What the hell is that?" Silence greeted him. Silence and white-toothed smiles. "Um guys? You're starting to scare me." Gilbert attempted to roll to his knees, but the floor shot up toward the ceiling and he fell onto his hands with a groan. This was…this was not normal. He knew what drunk felt like. This was like bad drugs or vodka. With new vengeance he thought '_I hate wine__'__._

Antonio moved to Gilbert's side again and rolled him onto his back, head in his lap. It wouldn't be good to try wandering around in this state. Francis meanwhile stayed rooted to his spot, heart thudding right out of chest and mind blank. Suddenly, he dived forward and shoved the bottle into Antonio's hands. "Quick! More wine _now_!" Francis very nearly hyperventilated with excitement. "I…oh damn, where's my phone? We need to commemorate this moment for eternity. A new drunk Gilbert side!"

Indeed, neither saw their young friend like this before. Normally Gilbert got louder, wilder, stupider. He jumped on top of tables and waved his shirt around like a flag as he sang the German national anthem. No, he did not lose his cocky grin, only to replace it with pants and flushed cheeks. Francis wanted to eat him up even if he had to live as a fingerless man for the rest of his life. The memories would make the horror worth it. After locating his phone and returning their space in front of the sofa, he snapped a picture of Gilbert lying pliant as Antonio tipped wine into his mouth. He looked almost submissive. Francis didn't know Gilbert could look that way.

Blood ran straight to his lower regions. "Give that wine here," Francis grunted. Antonio tilted his head in question, but handed it over.

"Are you planning things again?" he asked as he took the phone and shifted Gilbert at Francis' prompting. They soon had him straddling Francis' lap with Antonio behind the blonde to watch and taunt him with the camera. Gilbert still struggled some, but they were weak attempts compared to his usual strength. Most days he couldn't be held down without the other two teaming up. Francis took a swig from the bottle before fixing Gilbert with a determined stare. Red eyes widened with understanding.

"N-no way! Please no more wine!" Anything to keep the last shreds of control together. He couldn't lose them, not even in front of his closest friends—the only real friends he'd ever had. Francis gently tilted his chin and pressed lips to his, but Gilbert refused to open his mouth. Antonio licked a stripe across his palm, earning a moan. The mouthful of wine slipped in, then down his convulsing throat. Antonio pressed the next mouthful to his lips. _No more. He couldn__'__t take any more of this. _Francis stared with his smokey eyes and then Gilbert lost it. When Francis passed another mouthful to him, he gulped it down greedily. He brought a hand up to tangle in the blonde hair as he thrust his tongue into Francis' mouth. The moan humming against their tongues sent Gilbert's body shuddering. Francis' moan or his, it didn't matter. Despite opening his eyes again, they stayed glazed and half-lidded in white lashes, his face lax. A face belonging to another person.

"More." Gilbert rutted against Francis' pelvis. "I need more."

For a second, his companions just stared at him. Gilbert with eyes fluttering closed, paleness reddening almost everywhere they could see skin, rocked forward and opened his mouth in a silent keen. "Gilbert?" Francis felt the need to make sure because a changeling must have jumped out of the movie and possessed the albino on top of him. Those eyes shone like ruby stones as the snowy eyelids parted again. After a second, a normal expression of haughtiness and impatience passed over Gilbert's face.

"What's the hold up? You don't want to tap this?" he snapped, albeit with a slur. His hand caressed his jean clad bottom to inform just what 'this' was. Francis licked his lips. Antonio nudged him and whispered in his ear.

"Take the invitation!" It would be worth seeing no matter the result.

When sober, Francis had a rule against sleeping with drunks. Somehow the rule sounded so much less practical with his own head swimming in wine. And this was _Gilbert. _Like Antonio said, this sort of invitation came only once in a lifetime. His hands dropped onto Gilbert's hips as he pressed the younger man firmly down against the bulge growing in his pants. "Yes of course, dear. I just thought your fine ass was off limits," Francis murmured as his pressed kisses to Gilbert's neck. He would have gone after it the day they met had he known. He even tried then. He tried every time Gilbert got drunk or when he bent over too tantalizingly, but only going as far as the other would allow, which wasn't much.

Gilbert threw back his head and laughed. "It is off limits! But…" he leaned down to whisper in Francis' ear. "I'll let you in on a secret. _Sometimes__…_it isn't!" Gilbert burst out as if he shared the most outrageous detail. The others' stunned faces got him laughing again. "What? You think this thing is a virgin?" He gave his butt a slap. "What kind of prude do you think I am? I've had men before! So…" He licked his lips. "Come at me, boys."

"Fuck!" Francis couldn't hold back anymore. He dropped his mouth over Gilbert's and ravished it as he slipped hands into his shirt. Antonio fell onto his side with a hand propping his head up, watching the show. Small mewling noises escaped Gilbert as Francis exposed more swathes of flushed skin. He thumbed a nipple which rewarded him another moan. Gilbert pulled his mouth away with a near scream.

"Hell yeah, that's it!" A second later, Gilbert dissolved into useless noises as Francis slipped his hands down to squeeze his ass. With each squeeze, his fingers gathered more flesh and moved inwards until Gilbert felt them brushing against his hole. His back arched and he had to grab hold of Francis' shoulders for balance. "Scheiße!" His head spun from the motion. He tightened his grip because if he let go of Francis he would surely fall to the floor or maybe the ceiling. Everything spun, dark and light, up, down. Gilbert buried his face against the other's neck as reason left. "Ich will dich." Hands pulled at his belt buckle and Gilbert felt himself melt toward oblivion, his voice spiraling ever downward. "…Sehr gut…Ooh, Ivan…!" The hoarse whisper died in his throat as his body went lax. The last thing he saw was the tattered edge of a mauve scarf before he fell into its warmth.

Francis blinked as the body slumped forward in his arms. At first he didn't understand, but Gilbert didn't respond to his touch and that fizzled down through his alcoholic haze. Francis wanted to cry. Antonio noticed his trembling shoulders, but hadn't reached the same conclusion. "Why'd you stop?"

"…He fell asleep."

Antonio burst out laughing. "Aw, poor Francy. And he even called out another's name," he cooed despite shifting his own legs uncomfortably. "Shall Toni offer you a hand?" With that, Antonio slipped one hand between Francis' legs and gave a little squeeze.

Francis shuddered and breathed out as he leaned back against the couch. "You know just the way to my heart." That got Antonio chuckling again. Francis rolled Gilbert onto his back and let his eyes linger as if to savor what could have been. Just as he turned back to Antonio busy wriggling out of his jeans, another idea struck Francis. "Not there." He grabbed the other's wrist and pulled him in front of Gilbert. Antonio glanced back, but understood without words. He got on all fours above their unconscious friend whose lips still lay parted and glistening.

"Someone needs to punish him for calling another name. No one compares me to other lovers!" And so, knowingly or not, he would be roped into their fucking. Plus, Francis couldn't get over that pliant, moaning Gilbert and he knew Antonio couldn't either. He reached down to rub Antonio's erection. "You enjoyed watching me play with him."

"Yes!" Antonio cried. "I want to see his face when I come!"

"Me too," Francis whispered. He leaned down over the other man's back so he could feel Antonio body and see Gilbert's face. It struck him how wonderful these two together were, even if it only lasted a night. "Then I'll have to make you come."

xXx

Gilbert groaned and squeezed his eyes shut as if that could expel his headache. He felt like someone used him as a punching bag. Focusing on breathing, he curled up tighter. Just another one of _those _nights, except, what did happen last night? After a minute, he forced his eyes open and what he saw made him scream.

"My eyes!" Gilbert wailed, all of his previous sluggishness forgotten as he tried to block out the scene with—were those Antonio's boxers? He flung away the unfortunate first thing he grabbed with another cry. Francis and Antonio sprawled out little more than a foot away, limbs tangled, and completely naked. Francis' junk up close and personal would be burned into his brain for all eternity. God, they had bedrooms! Did his friends have to do it practically on top of him? Gilbert looked down at himself. At least he still had his clothes. Shirt, pants, socks, the whole ensemble.

Just as he patted himself for assurance of this fact, Gilbert's brows furrowed. One hand rested over the front of his jeans. "…my button is undone…" White flakes came off his shirt, dusting his hand. It wasn't possible, was it? _Oh god. _Gilbert frantically inspected himself. Important bits still tucked away inside his pants, hands clean, no twinges in his hips, ass, or anywhere else. Finally, he let his trembling hands relax. The relief that flooded him lasted only a second. No sex, but…Gilbert's eyes snapped back his friends with sudden fury and distrust because someone else's cum was on his shirt. He snatched up a couch pillow and swung.

"Perverted freaks! What did you do with me?! Perverts! Perverts!" Each scream fell with a strike from the pillow. Francis flailed and sputtered, his arms held in defense even before he understood the situation. The pillow hit him full in the face, smothering his attempts to speak. He caught only the sight of crimson sparking eyes before Gilbert tossed the pillow on top of him and stormed out of the room.

The pillow slid down Francis' face into his lap and he just sat there, dazed. "What the hell?" he croaked. His eyes widened and he raised a hand to rub his throat which felt coated in sand and salt. His head hurt too much for consciousness and certainly not Gilbert's impressive lungs. Why would he scream so loud at this early hour? Francis glanced over at Antonio, still asleep even after being dealt pillow blows. "Oh…that." He brushed oily strands of hair out of his face as he accessed the situation. Did Gilbert remember anything from last night. No, probably not since he asked what they did to him. Francis chuckled as a grin spread across his face. _Not as much as I would have liked._

He prodded Antonio a few times, but decided the other male wouldn't wake any time soon. Francis would deal with Gilbert later. Now, all he wanted was a shower. They fell asleep after doing it, not even bothering to wipe the mess away or cover themselves. It shouldn't have mattered anyway. Gilbert went home with men before and he sure wanted it when drunk and sometimes drunk Gilbert was the most honest. The large amount of wine they drunk may not have been smart, but not half as dumb as Gilbert thinking he could escape now. The secret was out. Gilbert didn't just top.

When Francis emerged from the shower, he found the younger man in the kitchen. Gilbert stood over the counter, dressed comfortably and at ease. Francis moved softly so as not to startle him and eyed the food. Gilbert had a large dish which he liberally covered in cheese, salami and breads. Eggs boiled on the stove, far more than he could eat by himself. Francis opened his mouth to comment on how those were his cheeses and he bought that loaf for something, but he supposed that didn't really matter. Gilbert fetched something out of the cabinet corner he kept his personal foods. Strangely, he hummed as he set the jam jar on his platter. "It's strawberry. Your favorite right?" Francis startled, but nodded. He didn't think Gilbert noticed him.

The younger man shifted to the eggs after telling Francis to set the finished food on the table. Francis chuckled. He expected Gilbert to stay mad for the entire day. Mad? That was how it seemed, though he couldn't imagine why it turned out that way. Sure Gilbert woke up next to his friends in a post-sex state and Antonio still slept on the floor with a satisfied grin, but it wasn't that big of a deal. It's not like Gilbert didn't know he and Antonio had that kind of relationship. He even hooted at them when witness to a particularly hot make out session. Francis would have to drag the truth out of him. He took the tray and swept away with it. "Thank goodness. I was afraid you planned to eat this all by yourself." He knew Gilbert liked breakfast, but this was an impressive food spread.

Gilbert finally met his eye and it was then Francis noticed the pink tinge on his cheeks. "I just started grabbing food out of habit. I wasn't thinking." He paused, snapping the heat off with more force than necessary, then sighed. "But…what happened last night?"

"Well, for starters we got filthy drunk." Francis' chuckle danced across the room. He reached for the jam and tilted it to see the masking tape label, marking it as homemade. Gilbert grabbed a handful of cheese and devoured it, still pink in the face. _So cute. I just want to tease him. _"So, who's Ivan? I didn't know you had a man now."

Every muscle in Gilbert's body tensed. Eyes wide, his gaze darted up. Francis froze as the other man's surprise twisted with darkness. So many emotions passed by, good, bad, and terrifying to see on Gilbert's face that rarely expressed any of them. "Don't say his name," he growled, a warning rather than a challenge. Francis shook his head, confused.

"Why? I thought we didn't have secrets?" They never made a rule like that, but he lived by the philosophy himself. Francis bared his troubles. His friends could help even if help came in the form of teasing jokes and a free drink. The lack of seriousness soothed him, but Gilbert kept so much inside still. "Is he an unrequited love? Ex? Your favorite porn actor?" Francis couldn't quite get his smile to work. He kept pleading with his eyes though.

It seemed like Gilbert wilted. He brought the eggs to the table and collapsed into a cheap wooden chair. Francis perched on a stool considering they had odd, unmatched furniture and only one chair. Gilbert sat with his head in his hand. Despite having prepared a feast Francis found ridiculous, he didn't eat any. The out of character show bothered Francis and he reached over to pat Gilbert's hand. Their eyes met again; Gilbert shook his head. "He's a fucker I used to know is who. A bad memory, but that's it. _A memory._" He said that to convince himself, not Francis. Mentions of Ivan shook him up, but he started it. Why? "God, I haven't even thought about him in the better part of a year. Seriously, what were we up to?" Gilbert sounded exasperated. He went out of his way to sound it and he really was, but also tense, afraid.

Francis observed him as he spoke, and then a minute after. He so badly wanted to pry, but Gilbert worked like the surface of water—a soft touch let you pass through, but punch it and you just hurt yourself. Any other time, Francis would find the metaphor amusing or possibly innuendo. "Well!" Gentle touch, don't push. "Did I mention we were really drunk and you…I've never seen you drunk like that, so don't get mad at us. You flipped like a switch and started getting all sexy on us. All moaning and lap dancing and sexy sounding German. You ah…moaned his name before passing out on me. It was _beyond _sexy and…me and Toni had to amuse ourselves in your absence." He chose not to mention exactly how he and Antonio decided to amuse themselves.

Gilbert stared at Francis like he couldn't believe himself. Which was impressive considering these were his own actions. He snapped his head away, brightening dark red, red as only someone with so little skin pigment could get. "I hate myself sometimes," he groaned in all his usual flare. "Forget it ever happened!"

"But why?!" Francis cried. "Now that we've crossed this line together, I think we should go forward. You don't shove rain back into clouds! I didn't think you cared for my advances because you and me, we're alpha dogs-" Gilbert raised an eyebrow, making Francis nearly throw a baguette at him. He was a very alpha man most of the time. Tossing a wave of hair over his shoulder, he refused to answer the taunt. "I don't know why you never went after Toni, but that's not the point. You, Gilbert Beilschmidt, have a submissive side!" Francis exclaimed with a point of his finger. "So mon cher, do us all a favor and let me fuck you."

"I hate it when you speak French. Makes you sound more like a pompous poser than usual." Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Stop acting like you can say more than five words."

Francis gasped. "That's harsh! I can also ask you to take your pants off." Gilbert leveled him with a glare. Francis refused to be daunted by it though, just like he refused to be dragged off topic so blatantly. "You don't have to be embarrassed or ashamed. We're all friends here." Francis reached for him with what Gilbert dubbed 'pervy grabby hands'. Gilbert ducked them with a disgusted snort.

"That's the problem. We're friends."

Francis furrowed his brow. "That doesn't make sense. We already talk about our sexual conquests in graphic detail and you watch me and Toni without batting an eye. Now suddenly you're shy to share with us? That's a load of crap and you know it!" Shoving back his chair, Francis circled the round little table and leaned over Gilbert. Placing both hands on the seat edge, he caged the other man's body to whisper against his ear. "Unless you give me a good reason, I'm not gonna stop. Not today. Not tomorrow or in a month or a year. I'll pursue you and open you like a rose—petal," Hot fingers slid up his thighs. "By petal." A feral flash of teeth. "By petal."

Gilbert trembled under him, so faintly you needed to be as close as Francis to see. Breaths too fast, body too flushed. Francis crooned inside with victory even as he kept his smokey stare, until Gilbert broke it. He turned his head. The spell shattered and with it, Francis' victory. Gilbert looked no more like someone who won though, but rather like one forcing himself into a box. "You two are my best friends," he croaked. Francis pulled back. "I've never had friends like you. Hell, friends half as good as you. I _like _the balance we have. You don't understand, Francis!"

Hands grabbed desperately at the stunned blonde. "I don't want things to change. You and Toni aren't like me. The sort of lines you draw and don't draw. When I fool around, it's got to be a stranger. I just can't sleep with my friends!" Gilbert knew terrible things would happen if he did. Things none of them were ready for and he couldn't risk their friendship falling apart.

One heart beat felt like too long in Francis' chest. He felt it with clarity, hurting in such a strange way. He recognized the hurt in his chest, but not the reason for it. His eyes slipped closed. This had nothing to do with matters of love. Of course Gilbert was important to him and those desperate eyes and tightly clasped hands didn't sit well with him either. Could friendship hurt his heart to this degree? _Yes, _his heart jumped to supply. Their friendship mattered more than anything. Francis nodded and tried not to feel insulted when Gilbert looked shocked.

"Okay." Francis pulled back and strode to the other side of the kitchen then halfway back. He ran a hand through his hair as he tried to compose his thoughts. "But why didn't you say so before? You're my best friend too and I don't think with my dick like everyone says," he snorted. "I'd stop putting you in this position if I knew. I mean, I'm not promising I won't forget and start groping your pretty ass out of instinct…" He couldn't change his nature after all. Didn't want to try.

Gilbert shrugged and snorted back. That was so like Francis. A pervert and a total gentleman. He liked to play big brother and protect his younger friends because it gave him self-satisfaction. For once, Gilbert didn't mind it. "I guess I didn't think I minded it much until now. I panicked when I thought we crossed the line and I wasn't in a state to stop myself. I dunno why it's bugging me, but whatever. Can't we just go back to what we were before? Grope my ass or whatever…not like I hate it," Gilbert muttered.

Francis smiled. Oh he smiled and nodded because he respected Gilbert. But he couldn't help but think he acted a little immature. You can't put rain back into clouds, just like he said. "I'll try." He could promise no more. Their relationship already changed no matter how hard they ignored it.

The atmosphere hesitated in awkwardness for another minute before Gilbert shook himself and blinked the haze out of his eyes. "Um, I'm not hungry anymore. You and Toni can eat it all. I-I have homework to do." With that, he exited at a walk too fast to be natural, but at least not a run. Francis looked after him with sad eyes until the bedroom door closed. He waited another minute before raising his voice.

"Did you get all of that?"

"…Yes." Antonio considered not responding and pretending to still be asleep, but he decided it wouldn't do him any good. Instead, he rolled over so he could look into the kitchen. They shared a look, half serious, half exasperated. Drunken fun should never get this complicated and it never had until they met Gilbert and his drama, but still they put up with it. That damn friend got them promising forevers and living together and all sorts of things that the other two never guessed would be in their future. What else could they do but comply with his whims?

Francis sighed and Antonio said one of the most intelligent things he'd ever heard. "The cute ones are never easy."


	4. Chapter 4

The next Tuesday morning, Francis raided the cabinets with a yawn. It took him three checks to be sure his local grown apples were missing. Because it really was that big of a deal, he inspected the trash. Indeed, apple cores. Someone else ate his precious, hand selected, and over-priced fruit. They had personal and joint cabinet space for a reason. Only one person would so disregard the rules like this. Francis pushed open the back door which stood slightly ajar. Antonio knelt in the dirt with gardening supplies scattered around him. By the looks of it, he started a little over an hour ago. "Did Gilbert already go to class? Unless you ate my breakfast."

Antonio put down the little hand shovel. When he wiped a bead of sweat off his face, he left a smudge of soil behind. He didn't wear gloves, preferring to feel the dirt with his fingers. Shrugging one shoulder, he nodded. "Yes. He got up before me." The two shared a look.

Francis sighed and ran a hand through his unbrushed hair. His irritation over the apples fell to the back seat. "This is troubling indeed." Gilbert turned into a responsible and punctual man—the person he was when not comfortable with others. He never once showed that face to his best friends. After a second more of silence, Francis tied back his hair and knelt down in the dirt with Antonio. "What are you planting?"

"Spinach and tomatoes for now. I want to plant strawberries too, but we don't have a lot of room," he explained, each with a point to his planned spaces and the seed packets. "The box garden will be for basil and thyme. We can keep it on the windowsill!" Antonio shoved his hands into the fresh dirt, laughing as it crumbled around him.

Francis nodded his head in appreciation. There was nothing like fresh herbs to a gourmet like him. "I've got some time yet. Let me help." For all that he came from money and splendor, he shared Antonio's love for the dirt. Gardening relaxed him in a way that little else could. They didn't speak as Antonio dug the holes and Francis filled them with seeds. Francis found himself drifting into his thoughts as he always did when gardening and judging by Antonio's face, he did the same.

An old groundsman taught Francis to love the art of growing. Raised around delicate breakable things, he molded himself into the sort without a wild youth. Trouble didn't suit him at all, not when he spent so much time preening on compliments to his looks and behavior. The only thing he missed were people to talk to who would really listen and not just nod their head. He'd found himself sitting on the doorstep and talking for hours about a child's delight in this or that to the kind old man. He had children so he just let Francis talk without a care. Just like the two gardening now, the groundsman gave the plants his real attention. It took time before Francis got over dirtying his hands and started gardening himself. A plant deserved to be treasured from seed to plate. Sometimes he wondered what it felt like to grow up on an orange orchard, working side by side with the migrant workers at harvest. To be a little Antonio holding the gathering basket as another youth taught him Spanish—how different that would be.

"Sorry, that's all I can do for today," Francis said as he finished off one row. He found it hard to drag himself away, but mother nature blessed him with a good internal clock. He didn't need an alarm to tell him the time to go. Rubbing his hands clean on a cloth, he ginned down at himself. "The museum opens at nine and I need to change again it seems. Anyway, I'll be out all day. At least until closing. I've got a project to start on."

Antonio grinned, less bright, but soft like a calm breeze. This lasted until he scratched his nose, inhaled a bit of dirt, and sneezed. Francis burst out laughing even after he received a muddy slap to his arm. "Don't laugh! You're the one with dirt on his eyebrow," Antonio huffed. Francis moaned in horror and nearly wiped his face until he realized how dirty his hands were. Antonio rubbed the speck away with his sleeve, tongue pressed to his lip in some sort of dorky show of concentration. "You've already got projects on the second week? I don't know how you guys do school."

"I am a grad student. Got to keep my grades up and my parents happy. Like they say, no rest for the wicked." Francis winked as he headed for the door.

"I thought you didn't get sleep because-"

"See you later, Toni!" Francis laughed as he danced back inside.

xXx

Francis didn't mind getting lost in the Los Angeles County Museum of Art at all. With Rembrandt and Cézanne at his side, how could he consider this work? He only felt awe to be in the presence of such masterpieces. It was the art historian in him talking, but also the romantic. Francis didn't have time to linger or visit the entirety of the museum though. He used the little handheld map to find the French oil paintings and circled the room. He held a notebook in his hands and by far wasn't the only student wandering around like this. In a city with a vibrant art culture like LA, students often visited the museums. Francis' studying focused around European art as he prepared himself for a massive end of the quarter paper. Each in his class picked their own focus within the umbrella of Europe. Naturally he picked France, the country he wished he could do more than trace a vague linage to. If only he had been born in such a wondrous place. He could only satisfy himself with paintings.

Hours passed as pages in Francis' spiral turned. He tucked his erasure stick behind his ear, looking the picture of an art student. The museum kept an awed hush. Not silence which would be cloying, but filled with the whispered conversations of viewers. Any other time, Francis would lose himself in people watching. Now he noticed the existence of people in the farthest back of his mind. That was until a pencil skittered into his leg.

"Sorry, could you…?"

Francis turned to see a head of short blonde hair behind him. He froze, his response dying in his throat. Everything inside him tried to pull apart; he wanted to soar up and dash himself into the floor at the same time. Arthur's here? He finally came back from Oxford! But when Francis blinked again, the face in front of him stood just a little too low and the smile wore lipstick. Her cheeks curved round and pink so unlike the ones Francis wanted to see. He stared at the girl silently because he thought he needed to remember something more than she looked like Arthur.

"Ah…that's right. You probably don't remember me," the girl chuckled. She tucked one golden strand behind her ear and her lips twisted in a mockery of a smile. "My name is Alissa. We met at a party, oh I dunno…a year ago? You were fun."

Francis never quite put together who she was, but he knew _what_ she was now. Just another girl and one that looked like his unrequited love at that. She must have been a moment of weakness. Still, she had a cute smile and the same dimples. Francis found himself smiling and lifting Alissa's hand to press a kiss to it. "Perhaps you just need to help me remember," he whispered with his blue eyes dancing. He couldn't have Arthur, but that didn't mean he couldn't have everyone else in his stead.

Alissa giggled which set Francis on edge. Arthur would never giggle, but he ignored the discrepancy. She took her hand back before answering. "That would be wonderful. Actually…" She twisted the black strap of her bag before lifting her eyes to meet his again. By then her smile regained the confident and almost superior look of before. "That's why I approached you. Will you go for a second whirl with me?"

All over again Francis found himself drowning. Arthur…no she was Alissa. Why did they have similar names? Though at this point, he could have found Ramundo similar. The lie caught him up too deeply. She was Arthur, but a female and less hateful version. He could work with that even if her forwardness turned other men away. He gluttoned himself on this type of punishment. All the green eyes he loved looked down at him like this. He wouldn't be able to react to any other ones.

"My dear Alissa, I would never turn a pretty girl like you away. Green eyes are my weakness." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Perhaps I can take you out for dinner tonight?" She nodded and the two hashed out the details. Francis gained a new contact in his phone, not that he had many to begin with. As often as he gained them, he deleted them. The men and woman who breezed past his bed would clutter his phone otherwise. As he turned back to Landscape with Ruins by Pierre-Henri de Valenciennes, he wondered if this meeting counted as a fortunate turn of events or proof he was a masochist in matters of his heart.

xXx

Half an hour after dinner, Antonio knocked on Gilbert's door. A couple days ago, he added some sticker with a childish 'keep out' phrase and Antonio couldn't help but think the timing meant something, even if Gilbert had similar signs on his dorm room last year. "It's your turn to do dishes." He listened for movement, heard it, then turned to go. Before he reached the hall, a voice yelled after him.

"Help me edit my English paper!"

A grin tilted over Antonio's face. He pushed open Gilbert's door and found him sitting on his bed, laptop open, and a German/English dictionary against his knee. He patted the deep blue sheets and Antonio plopped down with a bounce and giggle. Gilbert shifted, making sure to keep a space between them. He sat cross-legged in his favorite jacket, mis-matched with shorts and a tank-top. Maybe because he showed so much skin, he made sure to keep it to himself. Still, Antonio felt relief. This was the normal Gilbert who forgot his best friends had a taste in men. Antonio didn't realize how badly he missed the ease of conversation. He didn't expect it to ever leave.

"Are you sure you want a drop-out like me to help?" Antonio joked even as he pulled Gilbert's laptop closer. He carried the reputation of being an idiot after all. Not that he minded. He cultivated that image himself. When he felt a stare on him Antonio looked up.

Gilbert looked like he seriously considered his friend's intelligence, but he shrugged in the end. "At least English is your first language." Although he started learning English at age eight when he moved in with his aunt, uncle, and prissy cousin, he found this a solid excuse. Gilbert tossed his ridiculous plush panda across the room. "What do they expect out of me?! I should get special treatment for being German!" After five seconds more of pouting, he jumped up to fetch his panda, patting out the ruffled fur in apology.

Antonio just continued to scan through Gilbert's writing about _Cher Ami,_ a famous bird from some war. What a morbid topic and Antonio doubted the teacher's prompt allowed for it. "Uh…The subject title says this is a personal essay." Gilbert shot him a glare. "What I mean is your grammar's a little off here and there, but ahaha, otherwise your English is fine! I don't get why you're complaining. I dunno, you can ask Francis later. He's better at this kind of stuff."

"Where is that pantie drooler anyway?" Gilbert grumbled. He stayed in his room most of the time, but he noticed who was home and who was not. He noticed who cooked dinner and the lack of his annoying voice. Not that Gilbert missed it or anything. He just noticed these things.

When Gilbert's shoulders slumped and his pout deepened, Antonio patted his hand. "Not a clue. Didn't get a call so he probably fell into someone's pants. You know how he is. Ah?!" He looked at Gilbert in confusion when he jumped and snatched his hand back. For a second, they stared at each other, silent with their breaths held. Then Gilbert jumped off of the bed and walked to the middle of the room, then most of the way back before laughing.

"Yeah, I know he's an idiot with his head and his dick disconnected!" Gilbert snapped. He tried to make it sound like his usual callous joke, but his voice came out tense. He sounded too irritated. If Gilbert couldn't play nice, then he needed to go—that's what he thought anyway before he moved to the door again. "I'll go do the dishes now. Finish fixing my paper."

Gilbert escaped to the hall, leaving Antonio baffled with the computer and a panda where his friend previously sat. "You don't have to act like we'll jump you!" Antonio yelled after him. Gilbert glanced back, then laughed in a strained and irritatingly self-satisfied sort of way. He said something about 'awesome people never running' and then he was gone.

Gilbert did have to run though. He leaned heavily over the sink as he waited for the water to turn hot. He could still feel the burn of Antonio's hand against him and it left _other _images flashing in his mind. Less than a week passed since he said he wouldn't sleep with either of them and his memories must have a serious vendetta against him because all he saw were those two naked on the living room rug. It started with a thought: _"__I wonder what they__'__re like in bed?__"_

And now, he just had to know. He couldn't remember anything from that night, so he wondered how Francis might touch him. Would he taste like wine and cigarettes, or finely cooked foods? With shaky hands, Gilbert picked up a bowl and the sponge. A second later, he disappeared into his mind again. _I really want to stop thinking about this._ But he never did. An image of Antonio stretched out on his side, a lazy smile on his face, jumped to mind. Gilbert squeaked and nearly dropped the bowl. That was it, he would make himself stop thinking. He just wasn't cleaning hard enough.

The dishes found themselves freed of their grime, then placed with perfect order in the washer. He wiped down the counter too, since he was there. He probably shouldn't have rearranged the condiments or moved the knife rack, but didn't it look better to the left of the sink? By the time Gilbert came back to himself, he'd cleaned the kitchen and half of the living room. When did that dust rag even get in his hand? He tossed it down and stomped back to his room. He took one look in there and started shrieking.

"Who said you could hug my panda of happiness!?" Antonio lay on his bed with the panda nestled in his arms and the laptop still open. He shook himself, then opened his eyes. Gilbert flew into the room, fists clenched, but Antonio didn't blink. He yawned and pulled himself upright with the panda in his lap.

"Oh sorry. I fell asleep. You have a lot of games on here, but they make me think too hard. Thinking makes me sleepy." He offered up the panda in time to have it snatched from his fingers. Gilbert made wringing motions with his free hand, but he couldn't strangle someone with that bright of a smile. He wanted to, but Antonio just looked too innocent. He probably smiled like that on purpose. Grumbling, Gilbert snapped his laptop shut and tucked it under an arm.

"Come on. Out of my room." He motioned to the door with his panda filled hand. Antonio pouted and got up. "If you want to sleep, do it on your bed. I've still got homework to do." Or procrastination and a little work. It amounted to the same thing since it would take him hours to finish. Antonio hesitated just inside the doorway.

"Are you going to lock yourself in here again?" He wouldn't leave if Gilbert said yes. Eyes narrowing, he sought the perfect words. "I thought you hated to be alone."

Gilbert choked on his air, doubling over and dislodging another stuffed animal from his bed. "W-what?! I love being alone. It's super fun! And…uh…I mean, if you want me around, then I guess I can be. I didn't know you missed me that much. Should have just said so."

Antonio rolled his eyes for Gilbert's benefit before he led the way to the living room. "I want to wait for Francis. You'll keep me company right?" He sat on the couch and pulled the blanket down to snuggle with. Gilbert hovered longer with his eyes flitting between bedroom and living room. He finally set his panda against the pillow and followed Antonio. He didn't take the other side of couch, but settled in a hand-carved rocking chair Antonio brought from home. Their furniture really did lack continuity.

The two fell into silence with Gilbert typing and Antonio stretched out under the blanket. His presence and the soft silence warmed Gilbert, making him want to sleep. It's not like he meant to avoid his friends. It saddened him to think he might have to. If only this new problem would go away soon and then no one would have to avoid anyone. They'd be friends all over again. Only, Gilbert feared his interest wouldn't die down before he caved.

Francis snuck in at three in the morning. He found Gilbert working on his computer by lamplight and Antonio asleep on the couch. Despite being tired, he carried a glow and a smile with him. Seeing his friends like this made him smile more. Things were back to normal now. Shame on him for thinking rain couldn't fall up into clouds. "Why are you still awake?" he whispered as he laid a hand on Gilbert's shoulder. The younger man jumped and craned his neck up, shifting just slightly so Francis' hand fell away. Not quite back to normal, then.

Gilbert closed out of his windows with suspicious speed, not about to share this blog entry yet. He jerked a thumb at Antonio. "He wanted to wait up for you. I just needed to do some homework. Calculus if you must know. Where have you been?"

Francis didn't need to know. Math made him grimace. "A girl." No need to elaborate. His words were met with a sigh.

"You really do play around too much. Don't you get tired of nameless faces?" Gilbert asked. A distant look passed over Francis' face and he couldn't quite call it happy. He didn't have a word for the emotion though. Maybe something like longing, but far colder, heavier.

"Don't you get tired of not getting laid?" Francis countered with.

All of Gilbert's questions evaporated with those words. He brandished his pencil like a knife and Francis backed up well out of reach. "At least I know my lovers' names."

"Alissa," Francis said abruptly. Gilbert tilted his head. "Maybe you'll get to meet this one if things go well."

They did get to meet Alissa when Friday rolled around and Francis planned to meet her for a lunch date. At the start of living together, they wrote out the rule of no dates inside the home. That was their sacred ground. So the trio waited together at a local coffee shop. They chatted until Francis received a text and bounced up from his seat. The other two stared at him, taken aback by this show of excitement. Francis got flighty around pretty faces and bubbled and talked and flirted, but he didn't jump from his seat so fast it nearly knocked to the ground. Behind the usual behavior lay a weariness as if he forced himself through those actions and to be happy with them. Not now though.

A girl stalked toward them, head high as if she couldn't care less who stood in front of her. That was, until she saw Francis and her face split into a grin. Francis dashed up to her and kissed her cheek, waving bye to his friends and leading her to the car.

Antonio spit out a mouthful of muffin and Gilbert whined in disgust as some bits slopped onto his sleeve. When he looked up, a thrill of shock went down his spine. Gilbert glanced over to his companion. "Doesn't she look a bit like…?"

Antonio continued staring at the car. "Arthur? Yes. She looks exactly like him." The two sat together, forgetting to move, forgetting to speak. They didn't need to watch each other to know what they thought because they shared the same conclusion. Both turned at the exact same time to lock eyes.

"He'll end up crying for sure."

* * *

Notes: Cher Ami was a real pigeon who carried a message during WW1 that ended up saving the lives of almost 200 American soldiers. Although she was shot and blinded in one eye, the leg carrying the message nearly severed, she flew all the way home. The story makes me think of Gilbert and his birds.  
The painting mentioned is, as far as I can tell, really in the LACMA. Not sure about Rembrandt and Cézanne, though when googling I saw something about it.

And a quick update: I will be writing this story for NaNoWriMo this year. Because of that, I won't be updating for a month or two, but hopefully I'll finish the story in that time. Haha, with a goal of 55k, I can only hope. I don't really know how long this story will be though. Ciao until then!


	5. Chapter 5

(Hey peeps! It's been a while. This story has been finished and it'll be fairly fast posting as I've just got the last chapter by chapter edits to do. There will be twenty including the epilogue. I'd also like to say I re-uploaded the previous chapters with some edits. Mostly just added details and tiny tweaks. I'd rec rereading, but it's not a must.)

* * *

Gilbert trembled in the nest of blankets he made his bed into. Sweat gave his pale skin a sheen as he ran a hand along his torso. This time he remembered to lock both the door to the hall and the one to Antonio's room. Whoever designed a house with adjoining bedrooms had really bad taste, but at least it was Toni and not Francis next to him. If that perv heard Gilbert doing this, he'd plaster himself to the door, panting like a dog. Gilbert bit back a moan as his hand strayed lower. Behind his closed eyelids, scenes played out as he imagined someone's mouth where his hand now stroked.

Another moan tried to escape his tightly pursed lips. In his mind, green eyes danced at him, teasing in the same way his tongue did. The imagined Antonio possessed serious skills with his mouth. Somehow Gilbert doubted Francis would go down on him like this. The man probably thought himself above such things, but his long delicate fingers would do amazing things. Gilbert brushed fingers across his nipples, imagining Francis' groomed nails instead of his chewed up ones. _Harder, more._ He pinched and the feeling shot up his spine. Twisting, he pushed his face into a pillow as his breathing and his hand's pace increased. A minute later, he tensed and came into a tissue. This he tossed aside before lying there with his mind blank except for one thought.

_I just masturbated while imagining my friends._ And the worst part? It wasn't the first time. The idea never occurred to him before their drunken night weeks ago but this happened twice before already. And now he even imagined them at the same time. That was just a little desperate. He felt desperate though, and a bit lost.

Gilbert stared at the far wall of his bedroom with a line of subpar quality stuffed chicks scattered around him—each the product of his competitive spirit and a festival booth. He shivered as the A/C turned on, but he still felt so hot. _Shit, I__'__m sweating and going crazy and I can__'__t stop thinking about them. What__'__s wrong with me? _No one captured his attention like this, not so bad he couldn't ignore the urge. Why did he have to want Francis and Antonio? God, he'd take them any way he could get even if he had to roll over and play bitch to get it. Not exactly his preference, but damn if it didn't sound hot.

He thought maybe it'd just been a while since he had a guy. He always did prefer them to women and when he did pick up a guy, they were cute and submissive. The amount of people he let dominate him could fit on one hand and now…_shit. _He wanted it so bad. If he didn't get any sleep soon, he would have to go to one of them because being alone only made it worse. Gilbert wrapped himself in a blanket before letting out a miserable sniffle. He shouldn't be awake at four in the morning with a pit of anxiety making it impossible to sleep. These things happened to him often enough though. For most of his life there would occur a period of time where everything grew too much inside him and insomnia took hold. Even between those times he slept less than he should have.

Five minutes of laying and shivering passed before Gilbert couldn't stand his restlessness anymore. Nor could he stand his nakedness. It always felt strange to sit around without clothes for longer than necessary so he slipped on his duckie jammies before wrapping up in the blanket again. He shuffled to his lamp and flicked on the light. The circle illuminated his tidy desk and the piles of ordered clutter on the floor around it. His jacket hung on the bedpost and despite the patches of clutter, his room looked bare. Most he had came from school or what accumulated over his one year in America like the little flag with LA printed across it and a cheap plastic figurine. His important things came from home. A German flag hung over his bed along with Rammstein posters and photos from the Oktoberfest he spent with family. Each of his stuffed animals remained precious as well as the row of hand carved figures that lined the top of his dresser—the only other piece of furniture besides the mini desk and bed.

Gilbert dropped down beside his desk and opened the birdcage door from where it sat on last year's textbooks. "Hey little guy, wanna come out and keep me company?" he whispered as he nudged the little yellow fluff ball with his finger. The canary ruffled his feathers and chirped before eyeing Gilbert's crooked finger. A second later, he hopped onto it and a smile broke out on Gilbert's face. He pulled the bird out and chuckled at his little friend. "You're so great, Gilbird. How about you become my new best friend?" Gilbird chirped back, seeming to smile. Gilbert pulled him close to his heart and breathed out a sigh.

"Yeah, me too." The words choked in his throat. He swallowed hard and squeezed his eyes shut. Gilbird jumped onto his shoulder, nuzzling and creating a new warmth that Gilbert felt all over his body. Minutes later, he fell asleep there on the floor, but he woke just as exhausted and anxious as before his sleep.

xXx

The next night when Gilbert once again couldn't sleep, he wandered into the living room and turned his favorite Call of Duty game on, the sound off. Never blinking, he didn't notice anything but the enemies and the glow of the tv. Not everyone would be proud to say, but he rocked at games like this. Why not name it as one of his greatest assets? It wasn't like he was much good at anything else. Why else couldn't he figure out what to do with his life? So he just buried himself under two blankets because damn if not sleeping didn't wreck your body temperature.

Being so absorbed in the game, Gilbert didn't hear a door open and creak closed again. His soldier crept behind a barricade, ready to spring an ambush. "Gilbert?" a bleary voice called. He jumped, cursing under his breath, and just managed to pause his game before he got blown up.

"Who-?" He turned to see Antonio rubbing a hand over his face, still muddled with half-wakefulness. His hair stuck up at the oddest angles and Gilbert cursed himself when his eyes strayed to the other man's torso. Only a golden cross covered his chest. In the off-colored glow of the game, his skin looked more yellowish than tan, but still tasteful. Just like before, Gilbert found himself appreciating the well-toned chest that looked built by honest work rather than nature or weights in a gym. Antonio may have had a slender waist by most people's standards and lacked the build of stronger men, but he wore what he had so well. Even half awake he looked so confident in his body and Gilbert couldn't blame him. He pulled a pillow into his lap and tilted his eyes away, watching his ghostly fingers pull the pillow's tassels instead. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

"Yes," Antonio answered, not mincing his words. He perched on the arm rest and his eyes raked over Gilbert, noting the heavy eye circles made more obvious by this light. He noticed them long before though. As always, despite being a heavy sleeper, he noticed all the details that went on in his friends' lives. How could he not notice Gilbert playing games at these hours and spending eleven extra minutes in the bathroom to put concealer under his eyes? Gilbert spent surprisingly punctual amounts of time in his routines.

Gilbert kept his eyes averted. Antonio pursed his lips and moved closer. He sat on the cushion next to his friend, grimacing when the springs creaked and the cushion dipped in a lumpy, disconcerting way. If Gilbert weren't already so pale, Antonio felt sure he'd look white-knuckled with how tight he gripped the pillow. Did albinos even go white? He never pondered that before and it'd be interesting to see if Gilbert could get more pale. Or not, because he'd surely be ill if he took on the pallor of paper. Antonio shouldn't be thinking about that at all. He placed a hand over Gilbert's and heard the very audible sucking in of breath in response.

"I noticed four days ago. When did you start not sleeping?" Antonio whispered. Gilbert didn't pull his hand away so he kept hold of it. He looked so tense sitting there, but wasn't it good he didn't try to run away?

Gilbert cleared his throat and managed to croak out an answer. "Dunno. Some time last week." He couldn't pull in enough air to speak properly and his throat felt like paper. He should push Antonio away and act pissed like usual but his mind turned scrambled long before now. He wanted to sleep, he wanted warmth, he wanted to get away, wanted not to need to.

Antonio's brow furrowed. He noticed Gilbert's eyes flick to him every now and then as a flush rose on his cheeks, up to his ears and down his neck. It took Antonio a second to understand after he looked and saw his bare chest. Antonio tended to sleep without a shirt at the least. Did this bother Gilbert? Antonio didn't mean anything by it and the thought that his natural state could upset someone pulled a pout onto his face. He ruffled Gilbert's hair as though petting a cat. "Is it our fault?" A pleased note shivered through him when he felt just how soft Gilbert's hair was. An entire year of being best friends and he never played with his hair? Antonio really missed out. His pleasure increased when Gilbert turned into the caress.

A second later, Gilbert's eyes went wide and he shoved Antonio. The brunette found himself on his back with Gilbert over him, hands still pressing down his chest. Before he could open his mouth and complain, Gilbert snapped at him, red eyes flashing. "Of course it's your fault. Why can't you fuckin' put on a shirt?! Do you have idea what I'm thinking when I see…see…" He realized his hands were touching exactly what he referred to and he snatched them back. Oh god, what was he doing jumping someone out of desperation? Gilbert dropped back on his haunches to buried his face in his hands. "Please go away b-before I…" The rest of the words choked in his throat and he moaned.

Antonio watched him, trying to think, which was never his strong point. He realized the flush on Gilbert's face had nothing to do with discomfort. Or at least the discomfort he expected. "Hey…Gilbert," he pleaded, one hand coming up to rest on his friend's hip. "Just say what you want to already." He couldn't stand this dancing around any longer.

Gilbert growled with his hands still hiding his face. A second later, he pulled them away and dived at Antonio. _Fuck, fuck, fuck. _His mind repeated the curse over and over but his body already separated from his head. He crashed his lips into the other man's and tried to drink up all the sunshine Antonio wore like a perfume. Antonio's hand buried in his hair as their tongues tangled until Gilbert went dizzy from lack of air. He pulled back to stare Antonio down. "I want you!" He didn't mention the other dreams about a certain blonde because that sounded too greedy. He could be happy with Antonio. Maybe he just needed to get the fuck out of his head that it would be just that, out of his head. A voice whispered in the back of Gilbert's mind: _Yeah right. _

"I want you too, Gil." Antonio grinned, like warmth, like summer. It did something funny to Gilbert's insides and the last bits of reason fled. He couldn't even make himself think that he shouldn't be doing this. Antonio's hands ran along his sides, slipping inside his shirt to make circles along his back. His tongue licked Gilbert's lips, asking for entrance again. He almost gave it before the hand slipped lower. Gilbert pulled back, ignoring Antonio's poutiest pout.

"Just to clear things up, I'm top. Got that? Whatever the hell I said when I'm drunk, that's not me." _Or the me I want to be._ Gilbert may have been giving in, but he wasn't giving in that much. "I-I'm not doing this otherwise." Probably, maybe. He squeezed his eyes shut. Tiny chance because his body already reacted to Antonio's touch. Just this little left him rearing to go, too rearing to leave and get himself off. Antonio just laughed though, making Gilbert crack his eyes open. The sight of Antonio laughing in his teasing, carefree way just turned Gilbert on more.

"It's fine, totally fine. I don't care about that!" A few chuckles still escaped him as he pulled Gilbert's head down to where he bared his neck. Gilbert nipped and lapped the sensitive skin there, eliciting a keen. "You and Francis are too picky." He wrapped his legs around Gilbert's waist to pull them fully together. After yanking off his shirt, Antonio paused to appreciate the other man's angular frame, lean muscle, and not an ounce of fat. He grabbed Gilbert's hair and pulled him close, purring low against his ear. "But one day, I am going to fuck you."

Gilbert shuddered. Antonio felt it where their bodies touched and even this much wasn't enough skin. He felt Gilbert's erection and rocked his hips. They both groaned at the same time. Antonio threw back his head and let Gilbert slip the loose pajama bottoms down. "Hurry!" he whined. Gilbert chuckled and readied the other man before thrusting inside. He groaned and bit down on Antonio's shoulder to hide his cries. Antonio didn't even try to quiet himself though and worry buzzed through Gilbert's lust. What if Francis woke up and found them? Gilbert blinked. So what? Let him see. He'd like that and he made Gilbert watch them make out like fools in club bathrooms stained with god knew what. Gilbert laughed in the back of his throat, cursing his blonde friend. He set a desperate pace as if he could fuck common sense right out of his mind. It seemed to work pretty good too.

Antonio writhed under him, never without a word or touch of encouragement. "There!" Ankles locking behind his back as Antonio rocked back with as much fervor. "Faster already, almost there. You're so good, Gil. Do you feel good?"

Gilbert only moaned in answer, burying his face in the crook of Antonio's shoulder. He held back too long to hold back now. He wouldn't last long. A particularly lustful noise made Gilbert pull back to look at his partner. What he saw made him nearly burst. Antonio lay his with eyes squeezed shut in passion as he jerked himself off. "O-hh god…Toni!" He hummed and suddenly it was all too much. He stuttered his hips a few last times before he came. Antonio came after, watching the uncensured pleasure on his friend's face. Gilbert collapsed on top and the two lay in silence as they tried to catch their breaths.

Antonio shifted so they lay more comfortably then rubbed Gilbert's back. "Do you feel better now?" he asked. He received no answer and brushed a mop of white hair from the other's eyes. The white eyelashes sat on his cheeks and his lips lay parted with laxness. A smile broke out on Antonio's. "I guess so." He could just reach the blanket with his fingertips and he managed to tumble it down on top of them in a haphazard mess that left their legs sticking out and skin showing here and there. He didn't want to disturb Gilbert though, not when he finally fell asleep. Besides, Antonio had no issues with sleeping in less favorable places or squished up against another. He fell asleep after another minute, one arm wrapped tight around Gilbert.

xXx

Francis woke one hour before his Tuesday morning class just like he always did. He checked his phone first and saw he had no new messages. Satisfied, he slipped on his slippers and headed for the bathroom. A strange light from the other direction caught his eye and he turned to the living room. Francis sputtered, his eyes wide as his phone clattered to the floor. "Antonio! And Gilbert…! What have you done?!" he yelped. His eyes stayed riveted to the couch, not even blinking.

Antonio roused with a languid stretch then jerked his head back to Francis. "Shush!" he chided, one finger to his lips. Francis just gaped because the big deal here was his noise level? Antonio pointed a finger at Gilbert though and shook his head. He brushed the other's hair away again to check if he still slept. Gilbert hardly moved over the course of the night, though fewer hours passed between then and now than ideal. He needed a little more sleep and Antonio wouldn't mind more himself despite it already being past his usual wake with the dawn time.

He shifted a bit at a time until he'd extracted himself from beneath the younger male. Antonio pulled the blanket over Gilbert properly and he mumbled, shifting a bit before gripping the blanket and rolling onto his side, face pressed into the couch's back. Francis watched all of this with an impatient expression. The second Antonio finished patting Gilbert's head, he grabbed his arm and started dragging. Antonio stumbled, then received a face-full of bathrobe a second later. He still fumbled with the tie when Francis dragged him out the back door then whirled around.

"You slept with him!"

"Uh…yeah…" Antonio mumbled. He ducked his head and ran a hand through his messy curls. "I don't know why you're yelling." Francis' shriek left him wincing and poking a finger in his ear. Antonio would call this reaction jealousy in anyone else, but Francis wasn't capable of the feeling. At least not with anyone besides Arthur and he didn't even have the right to jealousy with that man. In the past ten years of loving Arthur, he never once gave Francis a second glance. Rather, it could be said the man hated him. There had been a time long ago that Arthur looked up to him, but Francis seemed to be the only one who remembered it, still longed for it.

"Gilbert made his boundaries very clear. I know you're a devilish little pervert beneath that innocent face, but that's no excuse to take advantage of your friends!" Francis huffed.

_Seriously?_ Antonio found himself getting irritated despite the fact anger didn't come to him easily, especially not when defending himself. But this wasn't just him. Francis also belittled Gilbert by suggesting Antonio could ever take advantage of him. Gilbert didn't do anything he didn't want. Antonio clenched a hand in Francis' bathrobe and met his eye with challenge. "Why does it have to be my fault? He's the one that jumped me!" Antonio pouted and scratched his butt. Having spontaneous sex sure was fun at the time, but it bit the morning after. Francis' mouth twisted at this little display and he slapped Antonio's hand away.

"Quit doing that in public!" he complained. "Do you see where we are? Don't go showing your ass to our neighbors!"

Antonio rolled his eyes at that, but a laugh bubbled up in him. He rearranged the bathrobe into something more appropriate for Francis' benefit. "You're the only one who cares about my ass here. Stop pretending you don't like it." He teased like usual, but his mood stayed too serious for the teasing to last long. Francis sighed and returned back to the important matter as well.

"So, you let Gilbert have his way with you? He started it…?" Francis sounded like he couldn't quite believe it. Despite his ways and reputation, he could be purer in his intentions than most. Antonio kept to his own business, but he knew the kind Francis was the real one, not the player. "But why? He asked us and even if…maybe he was weak in a moment. You know he didn't want to cross that line."

Antonio sighed again and placed his hands on the other man's shoulders. For once, his face wore a solemn expression. "Francis, sometimes you're too good of a person. I did the right thing." Antonio didn't have that same kind of pureness inside of him. If he wanted something, he made sure he got it. Even so, the thing he wanted most was their friendship to never break. If his interest in Gilbert coincided with that, then that was just dandy. It didn't even occur to him he made a wrong choice. Antonio only ever did one thing he regretted and this wasn't it. "You also thought that denying what he wanted was unhealthy. He made the choice himself. This is a wonderful thing right?" And there went his brilliant smile again, spilling sunshine all over the sprouting vegetables.

"Damn it," Francis cursed into the palm of his hand. "You know I can't say no to that smile." He shook his head but a grin started to form. "Of course I'm happy he let loose so don't rub in it you ingrate. I just wish he picked me first!"

"You snooze you lose! Be more observant like me next time!" Antonio laughed. Francis made a face before stalking back to the door, pretending to be far more upset than he was. They both knew it; he would get his time still yet.

"Crap, I need to hurry. You-" He turned at the last second to jab one finger at Antonio. "Make sure Gilbert goes to class. You make him pass out, it's your responsibility."

Antonio pouted at that. "That's not our job. He's an adult!"

"Of course it is!" Francis chided from just inside the doorway. His blue eyes sparkled with a mix of kindness and teasing. "As his elders, it's up to us to look after him. I'd make a good big brother right? You know, if I had siblings. All I've got is you guys so just indulge my whims, okay. And for god's sake, put on some pants!" He whirled away with all the pomp of a fashion model.

Antonio hummed in agreement as the door closed behind Francis. He really would make a great big brother.


	6. Chapter 6

Antonio sat on the bus, his earbuds in and to all appearances, asleep. The techno music that blared over the bus' noise coaxed his thoughts into some kind of order. He worked part-time, getting as many hours as he could get at the grocery mart. It didn't pay well and he didn't get good hours either. He practically had to beg his boss every time to get a double-shift like today. Things were good at home though so he felt safe enough to be away from it all. What could possibly go wrong in one day's time?

Anything. Everything. He flicked his music up one more volume. No need to think about that. Antonio shouldn't be thinking right? He wasn't a thinker. Maybe an observer, but not a thinker. He left that to his friends. Gilbert was good at thinking. He goofed off, skipped class, and underachieved his way through life, but his test scores sailed him right into UCLA. Even on Antonio's best day he couldn't make it into a school like that. Francis had to work for it and his parents subtly hinted they didn't want anything less for their son. With his forehead pressed against the warm, smudgy window, Antonio wondered what it would be like for his family to have high expectations like that.

The bus shuddered to a stop and Antonio snapped his eyes open. Smiling to the stranger next him, he bid the man a good day, then slipped off one block from his job. He didn't have a car, but this mode of travel suited him. He liked to meet people and smile at them. His cousins always said his smile could cure cancer. It was his gift in the world. He didn't have brains, a good body perhaps, but the thing he had to offer was surely happiness.

Antonio's smile twisted somewhere far too bright to actually be happy. His cousins said a lot of things. Mostly Lovino. Feliciano said kind things where his older brother talked trash, but the twins meant well. It had now been four weeks since either answered his calls, six months since his parents spoke to him, and far longer for the rest of his family. They used to be so close too. Unlike usual, Antonio kept his music playing right until he reached the grocer.

Before opening hours, the store had a stale and cold air that Antonio ignored. As soon as people started to wheel through, it'd fill with chatter and warmth. He really was built for the service industry. Antonio just loved to be around others, but still, he didn't dream about doing this for the rest of his life. Even someone like him who couldn't follow through with more than one year of college had dreams. Or it could be said he dropped out because he had dreams and the worst event of his life conspired to show him that. This was just a stop-over, but at least one he didn't mind much.

"Hi boss!" he called as he nudged the door to the back room open and skipped inside. Wouldn't it be nice to one day be the one called 'boss'? Sometimes he had fantasies like that, but Francis laughed at him, said he would be too irresponsible of a boss. It might have been true, but Antonio could still dream. Images of children and tomatoes, ripe oranges hanging from trees, and family all around flashed behind his eyelids. _A dream. _A dream that did not involve college, big cities, and degrees in physical education.

Antonio found himself working the register on the far end. The only other lane open stood on the other side, manned by a droopy-eyed youth. Of course, number three broke last week so no one could operate in the middle. He didn't mind, but it left him a little bored. The morning rush ended and the afternoon crowd wouldn't be in for a while yet. With a bigger chain store not much more than across the street, a lot of the area's business went there. It could get quiet in the little local store. Antonio was about to wander over to Herc's lane for a little conversation when he noticed a girl heading his way, basket under her arm.

"Good morning, miss," he grinned to her. "Do you have your card with you?" He liked to look his customers in the eyes, but she kept hers down as she dug for her card. When she found it and passed it over, their eyes finally met. Both let out a little 'oh' at the same time. Seeing blonde hair and green eyes brighter than his own by far, Antonio did the same thing Francis must have done—mistook her for Arthur. He stood like an idiot with his mouth open for nearly a minute before he remembered to scan her card and hand it back. Antonio knew Arthur almost as long as Francis, having been introduced to the younger boy weeks after he started tagging along with older blonde. Back then, things were a lot simpler.

"You were with Francis that day. Are you his friend?" The girl asked. Antonio didn't remember her name. He started to scan her bags of potato chips and tv dinners interspersed with energy drinks as she talked. Francis would have a conniption if he saw the contents of his girlfriend's shopping basket. Antonio considered telling him about it just for that.

"His best!" He grinned one of his more winning smiles, the one he used when trying to charm his way into some boy's bed. But even if he had a taste in the fairer sex, he wouldn't chase after this girl. "You're his girlfriend." Girlfriend. What a word that was, but didn't it seem like Francis actually dated her rather than courted and dumped her aside once he got in her pants? Dating was a far rarer thing for that man though not unheard of.

She nodded and offered her hand which he took between scanning cheap lasagnas. "My name's Alissa. It's nice to meet you." He introduced himself back, but she hardly waited for it, snapping the conversation back to herself almost immediately. "So I guess you know him really well?"

It was Antonio's turn to nod now, though his was slow, a little more wary. "We grew up together. I know more about him than anyone else."

Alissa's shoulders relaxed and she sighed. The conceited face of a model she wore soon faded with relief. The look suited her better, especially since she didn't have the face or body to match her attitude, though she looked pleasant enough. "Really? I'm glad I ran into you. It's true I've only known him a little while, but I feel like there's this distance between us. He dotes on me and it's really nice," she said with a delicate giggle behind her hand. "No one's done that for me before. He's different than I first thought, but I still feel as if I don't know anything about him. It makes me anxious."

By now Antonio finished scanning the groceries. He could do this all on autopilot, always being one to talk through the checking process. Looking at Alissa now, he felt sorry for her. He disapproved of Francis pulling her into his fantasy world, but he could never paint her as the villain after this meeting. Wasn't she just another victim with no idea? Antonio glanced around and decided the store still exhibited dead hour conditions. "Should I share a little about him then?"

Alissa's face broke out in a smile. "Oh thank you so much! You really understand a girl!" Antonio didn't think so, but he finished bagging the groceries and smiled at her again. Couldn't he use this as a chance to break them up while being nice the entire time? Francis did call him devious. It only showed that Francis knew him just as well back. Antonio turned off his lane's light before anyone could notice and complain.

"Here, let me help carry your groceries and we can talk on the way." He gathered most of the bags and Alissa took the others as they headed into the muggy, early October air. As always, the sun shined somewhere between cozy and brutal. She pointed the way to her car and Antonio broke out his most endearing stories of Francis.

"When I met that guy, he was nine and me a year younger. I took one look at him and called out 'wow, you're a really pretty girl!' Ah, of course I really meant it to be kind," Antonio grinned. Francis had long hair then too, wavier in his youth and tied with a teal ribbon. His jacket hung off him to his knees and Antonio mistook it for a dress when he saw the pretty blonde at the playground. "He was soooo cute! And then he beat me up until I apologized. We became friends the next day…ah, but he still wore the ribbon. He dressed like a girl all the way until Junior High." Antonio shook his head with laughter, still amused at the memory. If a child could have a first love, Francis would be it, cute little thing he was. Then he grew up to be a bearded beast, but Antonio still slept with him because why not?

He set the bags in Alissa's car then glanced at her face. Her lips quirked into a smile, but she looked put off. "Really? I did think he was the vain sort…" She hiked her black purse higher on her shoulder and crossed her arms to look at Antonio, one perfectly trimmed eyebrow twitching up. "But that's just the actions of a child."

Antonio wasn't done yet though. "Of course, that's the only time he's ever beat me up! The one year makes a bigger difference in size at that age." He puffed out his chest, indignant at the thought that Francis ever beat him. "Don't let his decent figure fool ya! He's a total pansy! It's all art, wine, and flowers with him. I hope you're not the sort that likes testosterone," he tacked on with his most innocent, wide eyes. _Just give up on him already. He won__'__t give up on you, no, on Arthur no matter what. I hate to get involved, but you__'__re the one that came to me. It__'__s alright to tell you the truth. _Okay, the bit about the testosterone stretched the truth. Francis had some crazy libido and all the manliness a lover could want in bed. Antonio should know. Ooh, maybe he should say that. Like, 'hey, he also fucked me a few weeks ago in a strange, almost three-way.'

Right when Antonio opened his mouth though, Alissa frowned and talked over him. "What kind of best friend makes fun like this? I thought you were nice, but aren't your eyes a little mean?" She slammed the trunk of her car down and turned on him. Antonio just blinked at her, for once too shocked to try to smile his way out of trouble. It took Francis seven years to realize that about him and Alissa did it in five minutes. He shouldn't have been mean after all. He should just tell her the truth. No, he should leave her be and wish the two lots of luck. Maybe she and Francis wouldn't make each other cry. Antonio was starting to like her after all.

He ducked his head and waved, finally recovering his smile. "I'm sorry. It's nothing like that. I just care about Francis very much, so don't make him cry or I'll have to do the same to you. Bye!" He smiled one last time before he ran back to the store. Heracles and the boss were probably wondering where he went. Customers trickled in with the coming of lunch and he had the evening shift too. Suddenly the idea of spending his entire day here sounded much less appealing than earlier.

xXx

Francis checked his phone before he hurried out of the car. Good, it wasn't too late to make dinner yet. He got held up by a cute boy after class; he wanted to borrow Francis' notes which he'd been more than willing to share for a free look at that pale neckline. Hands full, he kicked the door open and tried to get to the kitchen as quick as possible before he dropped the groceries he carried. He noticed Gilbert first thing, laying on the couch with his face planted in a pillow. Asleep?

Francis drew in a deep breath to yell at him, but decided against it. Why not let the guy sleep a little longer yet? He may have freaked out at first, but things really did improve between them after Antonio slept with the younger man. To casually nap in the common area made Francis smile. The change happened almost immediately. Gilbert remained awkward after he woke, but Francis had class and didn't get to see much of it. The next morning Gilbert yelled them all awake for breakfast and threw bread at Francis, then slept the entire time between food and class with a dumb-ass grin.

As far as Francis knew, they had sex only the one time. It was interesting though. Maybe the house had something in the air because they never got in so much sex in so short a time before. Logically, he should just say living together created the effect, gave them more opportunity. Before moving in together, he and Antonio hadn't been together for most of a year. There was summer break where they got together only a few times. Antonio worked and Francis slipped back into his family's high social circle and the parties. Gilbert went home to Germany until they rented this place and he had somewhere to stay.

But even before that, Antonio became Francis' bed partner on rare occasions like when they served as each other's wingman and both struck out. The last time, they'd met eyes then fell at each other in hunger. Just another night, another lover. Did either of them even miss the other's arms? Their last drunken night should have been another fluke, but in a few scant weeks they managed to draw together like three starved souls. Even Francis thought that was impressive.

He shook his head and remembered he needed to hurry. After setting his ingredients aside, he took out a pot to start boiling water. A smile came to his face just thinking of how Gilbert would respond to the potatoes he bought. Was it because he was German? But Gilbert loved potatoes almost as much as he loved blueberry pancakes. Wouldn't he be surprised? Francis started to hum as he peeled, feeling very pleased with himself.

Gilbert grunted and lifted his face out of the sea of navy he swam in, only to realize that sea was a pillow. He scrunched his nose back into place since it flattened in his odd sleeping position. Instead of insomnia, he found himself sleeping too much now. He loved sleep for sure, but his body must have been trying to catch up with all it lost. He didn't find this troublesome, though he had been doing something. Gilbert eyed the book in front of him and quickly looked away. He fell asleep for a reason. Sitting up, he turned his attention to what woke him.

"Francis, is that you cooking? Smells good," he called with a yawn. He rubbed his hair into a sexy, messy sort of style. Because yeah, messy was in season wasn't it? He stared over the couch's back into the kitchen. Francis wandered out after a half minute to lean his arms against the couch.

"Of course. Who else could coax this scent of the divine into our home. Will you thank me for a German potato salad?" Francis teased with a toss of hair over his shoulder. He stood at attention, waiting for adulation to fall on him. Gilbert sneered and decided not to give it to him. Flopping down on his stomach again, he rolled his eyes.

"In your dreams. You're cooking that for yourself, not me." When Francis huffed and stalked back to the kitchen, Gilbert let a smile crack. Nothing warmed his mood like teasing that man. And his food had a certain warmth too. Francis didn't care for potatoes much so it came off a little too obvious, even desperate, that he cooked for Gilbert. The gesture made him as happy as it irritated him. The food did smell good. Gilbert breathed in a deep whiff before he picked up his fallen book from the floor. It opened to a random page and he just stared, not even finding the energy to turn to a more relevant section.

His happiness didn't last long when looking at the thing that forced him to bury his face in a pillow and fall asleep in the first place. A long sigh pulled out of him, audible all the way into the kitchen. He wasn't in the mood to praise nor complain it seemed. Francis looked back from eying the recipe he found on his phone. Didn't Gilbert seem a little off all of a sudden?

"What's wrong Gil? Weren't you just being yourself when you said that? If you really don't want potato salad, you can just say it," Francis mumbled though it hurt him to even think that a person didn't want his food. Gilbert sighed again and held his book into the air for Francis to see. It wouldn't do him any good to hide what bothered him right now. Francis set the heat on a simmer before he moved closer to read the cover. "…a course catalogue? The quarter just barely started. Isn't it a bit early to be looking at that?"

Gilbert just shook his head, his face buried in his other arm. "Not looking for classes," he mumbled against his skin. Francis understood the muffled noises by sheer Gilbert reading skills. He had to wait another minute for an explanation. "I need to pick a major and I have no idea what I want to do. I need to declare it by the end of the year or I dunno, I get kicked out or something." He didn't pay attention to the tiny details his counselor gave him earlier that day. It just depressed and lit a fire under his butt, which depressed him even more. He had the motivation to find a career path and no direction to go with that energy.

Francis perched on the arm rest and took the catalogue from Gilbert. The page gave details for modern dance and music classes. Francis clucked in distaste before turning amusement to his friend. "Hopefully you weren't looking at this. Though I suppose if you want to prance around in spandex, I could still find love in my heart for you." Gilbert's eyes widened as his mouth fell open.

"The hell?! Don't be an idiot!" He snapped the book closed on Francis' fingers, eliciting a loud cry. "Come on, this is a serious issue here! If you're going to pretend you're responsible, you should help me figure out what to do with my life." Any other day Gilbert would cry at the thought of following Francis' advice, but he was low on options. Francis did have his moments and he might have a better answer than Antonio. That idiot would just say 'chase your dreams!' What good did that do if Gilbert didn't know what his were?

Francis hummed and stroked the little bit of scruff on his chin as if to accent he was in fact the oldest in the room. "You really didn't have something you wanted to be when you grew up? I know you had it tough, but didn't you want _something_?"

Gilbert shrugged one shoulder in a careful manner. He didn't like talking about his past. It took enough out of him to tell Francis and Antonio about the car accident that killed his parents so many years ago. He still had many more secrets no one knew. "I guess I always figured I'd join the army and that'd be that. I never even thought to go to college until a year out of the gymnasium. I needed a change, but now I've got all these questions to answer and…shit, what am I gonna do, Francis?" He dropped his eyes, a frown pulling unbidden on his lips.

Francis couldn't help but stare. Gilbert didn't often show his weaker side even to his best friends. This level of insecurity brought a soft smile to Francis' face. He laid a hand on Gilbert's head, comforting. "I'm sorry, I can't answer that for you. You still have the entire year though so just keep looking. These things have a way of showing themselves when you stop trying so hard. Don't lose faith yet." He ruffled the other's white hair before picking it back into a semblance of order. He glanced back to the kitchen where he heard his potatoes calling.

Before he could fully pull away, Francis turned back, tilting his head when something occurred to him. "And maybe you should talk to Antonio about this. I know he doesn't seem like he'd be much help, but he has a little experience in this kind of crisis. Through all the stupid chatter, sometimes he has the best advice." Antonio had his crisis and dropped out of school before Gilbert met them, but Francis stood by his side during it. That had been a hell of a time and the year they became true best friends, not just people who just always existed in each other's lives. He didn't want Gilbert to fall into the sort of bad place they'd been in at the time.

Gilbert watched him with silent eyes, then sighed. He propped his chin on his hand and waved Francis off when he glanced back at the kitchen again. "Yeah, maybe I will do that." He took up the catalogue again and flipped to the list of available degrees with more energy than before.

By the time Antonio trudged, actually trudged, through the door, Gilbert was setting the table. Francis taught him the sophisticated table setting system, but he dumped his forks and spoons together anyway. Francis finished licking his wooden spoon as he caught sight of Antonio. He grinned and waved like they hadn't seen each other in years. Antonio brightened up before his shoes even came off.

"Welcome home, honey!" Francis cooed as Antonio fell into his arms, trying not to laugh when he pecked Francis on the cheek. Gilbert gaped at them, his expression somewhere between amusement and disgust.

"Get a room you retards!" he huffed. When he muttered, "I don't know why I'm friends with you guys," they all knew he smiled behind his scowl.


	7. Chapter 7

School kept Gilbert busy until Wednesday afternoon when he found the time to relax. He did a quick time zone conversion in his head, decided Ludwig would still be awake, then called his little brother. The dial tone sung out almost until the end before a tired voice answered.

"Ah…brother? It's good to hear from you." Ludwig spoke in a quiet voice that didn't match his size, already taller and more built than Gilbert at the age of eighteen. Although he sounded almost formal with politeness, Gilbert heard a smile in his voice. Ludwig wouldn't just come out and say how much he missed his brother, but they both knew it.

"Lud!" Gilbert crowed. "I'm so excited to talk to you!"

A pause, then a sigh that wasn't really exasperated. "Okay, okay. Just let me put the coffee on." Ludwig knew all too well his brother's ability to talk and talk. As pleasant as it could be, one had to prepare themself for the long haul. As sounds muffled on the other side of the line, Gilbert kept up his excited chatter, barely pausing for Ludwig's response.

"I'm so sorry I missed your birthday! Did it go well? Please tell me there was chocolate cake and beer!"

"There was. Ah…it was the kind you really like too." Ludwig chuckled, but the noise died quick as a somber air settled over them. After a second of silence, he sighed. "It's strange without you. The Edelstein's are family, but…" He didn't need to say it. They didn't have any real family besides each other. Having been only three at the time of the crash, Ludwig didn't remember their parents much. He used to sit in Gilbert's lap as he told stories though, each so grand and wonderful that they made his child's heart swell with love. It took him years to realize his brother's penchant to spin yarns. Ludwig couldn't help but love him for it. They may have found a new warm home, but in many ways, it felt like Gilbert raised his brother. He alone chased the shadows away.

Gilbert smiled, soft and a little sad. So many years already passed since the accident. If not for Ludwig, he wouldn't have known what to do with himself, but then he had someone to take care of. If he needed to steal an apple when money was short or forge a permission slip for him, he'd do it. No one knew how close he flirted with trouble back then because Gilbert kept it close to his heart where bravery belonged. He didn't want the attention. He just wanted to see Ludwig smile. Gilbert let out a breath of air. "You've grown up so big and strong. They would have been proud of you."

For a minute, no sound came over the line. Being private people, neither felt the need for it. No pair of brothers could be closer than them, so the unspoken words of gratitude and love reached anyway. For a second, Gilbert's heart plummeted somewhere toward the cream carpet of his room. He also hated missing his brother's birthday. As if sensing the change in mood, Ludwig switched topics. "How have you been? It's hard getting used to you being away again. Is America still treating you well?"

Gilbert shook himself and a grin split his face a second later. "Oh, where should I start? Get this, last Monday…"

He talked with his brother for hours. At one point, Ludwig passed the phone to their aunt and uncle. Gilbert even said a passing hello to his cousin Roderick, ending with a tease over their bet so see who would get married first—Gilbert who didn't want it, or Roderick who'd been pining over Elizabeta since they were five. It made him laugh though and Gilbert decided his cousin wasn't too bad after a while away. After all, it improved his mood to listen to that guy fume. Gilbert could almost say he missed him. All the while he talked, he moved around. He started laying on his bed with his legs flicking back and forth, then moved away to fed his bird. After wandering around the house, he ended on the couch with a box of cereal that he ate out of without a bowl or spoon.

Antonio, who had the unfortunate day off, watched all of this in between gardening. He kept a fond expression, though a part of him felt a bit jealous. Not an emotion he considered himself familiar with, Antonio stayed out of Gilbert's way. That didn't mean he stayed out of earshot. He lurked in the corners for almost the entire length of the conversation, soaking up all of Gilbert's flamboyant talk and self-praise, every adoration of his brother, and every dodge to a serious question. Or that's what he guessed anyway, not being able to understand German. Gilbert he understood though.

When the younger man finally hung up, Antonio saw him stare off into space, looking rather small on the couch. Swooping over, he collapsed on top of Gilbert. "Yay! Now you can finally talk to me!" He grinned and tried to pull Gilbert down onto his side with him, but the younger man didn't want to move. He didn't have to do anything, but regardless, Antonio swinging his weight along his middle didn't move him.

Gilbert let out a small noise. All at once, he jumped forward to wrap both arms around the brunette as he dropped his head onto his shoulder. Antonio's eyes went wide and he flailed with his hands out, not knowing what to do. His mouth opened and closed multiple times before his brain figured out what to say. "E-eh? Gilbert is getting handsy with me?"

Gilbert squeezed him tighter, painful and just a little bit on purpose. He never lifted his head. "Shut up, idiot! Just stay still a little while. Can't you recognize a freakin' hug?" He bit his lip and cursed himself for showing weakness. Antonio just looked too warm for Gilbert not to fall into at a moment like this though. After a hesitant pat, Antonio wrapped one arm around his waist and rubbed the other along his back. The motion dragged a tension-filled sighed out of Gilbert as his eyes slipped shut.

"Of course, silly. But you were in such good spirits all day. What's wrong?" More than anything, Antonio felt surprised by this turn of events. He had a right to feel down listening to chatter of such a happy family, not Gilbert. The younger man still pouted against his shoulder. He probably considered not explaining, but they'd gotten closer right? It had nothing to do with the sex. Rather, the events since living together just allowed them to open up better, especially Gilbert.

After a bit of incomprehensible muttering, he finally answered. "I miss home."

A warm smile spread across Antonio's face. He pressed a kiss to the top of Gilbert's head, as usual comforting through touches without meaning anything by it. "Ah, so that was it. I thought you talked a bit long, even for you. Heh, if it was me, I'd never be able to leave a family like that." Antonio hummed in the back of his throat and tried to push down his own feeling of homesickness. "You know…I don't get you. You love Germany and your family so much, so why come to America in the first place?"

Gilbert fell silent, but he lifted his head to meet Antonio's eye. After a minute, he slipped away to rest back against the couch, hands twisting in his lap. When Antonio asked in a voice like that, he wanted to spill everything. But more than anyone else, he wanted to keep these secrets from his friends. _Ivan. _Gilbert's eyes slipped closed as he imagined the tall boy with his platinum blonde hair and eyes that looked violet in certain lights. He smiled like a child, but…

A shiver ran down Gilbert's spine. He hugged his arms to himself, not noticing how his nails bit in. He didn't want to remember Ivan, now or ever. "It's not like I was running away. Just like I keep telling you guys, I needed a change. I thought I'd have more freedom here, ya know, being America and all." He stared straight ahead at their plasma tv and his cluster of game systems. He wanted to play Civilizations on his computer, to conquer the world, not feel conquered by it.

Antonio watched Gilbert, soaking up all the details he didn't notice he gave away. Still, he didn't say anything. Gilbert didn't want to explain himself, then fine, but Antonio could see him hurting. He sat the same way Gilbert did, facing forward as he leaned his head on the other's shoulder. "Next time you talk to your brother, let me say hi." The only comfort Antonio could give at this point was to change the subject and maybe he wanted a hug too.

Gilbert turned with his brow furrowed. "Why? Don't you have your own big fam…ah, right. Sorry. I think you're the one whose family doesn't make sense." He shook his head. Everyone got on his case for not sharing secrets, but didn't Antonio also have them? Though they weren't so much secrets as so many things that Francis and Antonio knew about each other, but Gilbert got left in the dark about. Or maybe they just forgot or assumed he knew. Gilbert himself didn't ask often enough. Did he feel like an outsider or something? He didn't understand why he couldn't just ask, but he never did outright. After a deep breath, Gilbert nudged Antonio's side. "Are you homesick too?"

Antonio nodded without hesitation. He didn't have Gilbert's same need to hide weaknesses. Whether hurting or happy, he expressed his emotions clear as could be. Gilbert envied the man even if he wouldn't say so. "Every day for the past four years," Antonio hummed. "I can still remember the tears in Feliciano's eyes when I left. And how Lovino turned away because he didn't want me to see him cry, but I saw it anyway. And now…" He trailed off with a glance at Gilbert's phone because his own never rang.

They both fell silent, Gilbert unable to think up an appropriate response. Antonio startled when he felt the lack of a smile on his face, so he threw on a bright grin and bounced to the other side of the couch, trying to laugh. "But of course I've been home a bunch of times since then…ah, a couple years ago. Anyway, we-" His grin faltered. "Talk."

"Okay, that's it! I can't stand this any longer! Your family are total douches for throwing you out like that. Doesn't matter what you did, they're family! If you want to talk to your cousins so much, you're going to do just that. Where's your phone?" Gilbert snapped as he jumped on top of Antonio and started to search his pockets, not an easy task considering he started to flail.

"E-eh? Wait, stop groping me!" Antonio yelped and did nothing to stop Gilbert's hands. Instead he lay there like he actually felt scandalized. Gilbert snatched his hands away, face turning red as he stammered. Antonio had no intention of handing over his phone. It didn't take much to distract Gilbert anyway. He ran a hand up his back, slipping fingers under the tank top's edge. After pressing a kiss to Gilbert's pale neck, Antonio worked to pull off his shirt. The man's sputtering increased and he collapsed on top of Antonio. That could only mean he won. Gilbert moved his hands to Antonio's butt, slipping hands into his back pockets. Right when he started getting into it though, Gilbert jumped away. Antonio blinked at him in confusion until he noticed the phone in Gilbert's hands. So that's where it went.

"Oh yeah, I'm so awesome!" Gilbert sang as he crawled back to the other side of the couch with his prize. Antonio just pouted at him. "Now let's see…ah, Lovi!" He curled up to hide his flush as a bead of sweat rolled down the curve of his spine.

Antonio crossed his arms, his pout deepening. "He won't answer even if you call." He learned this long ago. Even before his family threw him out, Lovino often didn't answer calls because that meant he'd been waiting for them. No, Lovino would call back afterwards, muttering something about how he couldn't wait at any hour for his stupid cousin's call and he only called back out of politeness. Antonio accepted this and it made him treasure Lovino the most and take his current cold shoulder the hardest. But wouldn't it be worse for Lovino to actually answer and confirm all of his fears?

Gilbert rolled his eyes. He didn't notice Antonio's unusual silence and busied himself with their phones instead. "Well duh. That's why I'm calling with my phone." That was common sense. Didn't his friends have any real tenacity? If someone won't pick up for one number, just use another. Antonio gaped with his mouth hanging open. Alarm buzzed through him when Gilbert typed in Lovino's number, then stretched back across the armrest, phone to his ear. "Hey there, are you Antonio's irritating little cousin?" Gilbert held the phone away from his ear, wincing. Lovino did have a sharp tongue.

Antonio watched this all with growing dread. Oh god, he really didn't want confirmation. He couldn't speak though. The thought of talking to Lovino now made him strangely leaden, but he couldn't stop himself from wanting it either. Antonio lifted hopeful eyes to watch his friend. Gilbert just kept talking with the determination of a soldier fighting through enemy lines.

"You damn little brat! Whatever did he do to you anyway?! Don't be so conceited! If someone calls you, answer the damn phone! You…ah…" Gilbert pulled the phone away again. "He hung up." He ran a hand through his hair and stared at the phone as if he really couldn't understand this. "I don't know why you like that kid so much, he's a total bastard and he's what? Seventeen?" Gilbert's voice came to Antonio as if through a haze. No, like from underwater because he was drowning in the air. His ears focused in on Gilbert's chatter once again. "I'm going to call him back until he apologizes to you."

_The hell you are! Why do you think he__'__s the one that needs to apologize? Every single thing that went wrong was my fault alone! _All of Antonio's fear boiled over into anger. Without thinking, he slapped Gilbert—the sort of vicious slap that left scratches along his cheek. "Why can't you just leave things you know nothing about alone!" he snapped. Gilbert's phone tumbled to the floor. The owner sat frozen as pain leaked through his shock.

"Ah…uh…" Gilbert started. His eyes darted away. Hurt flooded his face before he whispered a quick sorry. Antonio realized what he did too late. He reached for Gilbert's hand, but the man already stood. "I'm going out for a jog. Don't think I'll be back for dinner." And with that, Gilbert fled the house quicker than Antonio could chase after him. He slid to the floor and gathered his phone again, pressing the cool plastic to his forehead. His fingers trembled. Somewhere deep inside, he felt glad he scared Gilbert off. If that guy couldn't learn a little tack, then he deserved to get hit. He should have known that Lovino wasn't angry at Antonio. He was scared of him.

"I'm sorry, Gilbert, but some things you can't fix by just shoving your way inside."

xXx

Gilbert indeed did not come home for dinner. He didn't come home at all. Francis never noticed, too busy planning a romantic date with Alissa the next Friday. Antonio didn't feel like explaining anyway. After spending the night drinking on the beach with a pack of beer, Gilbert stumbled home with a killer headache. He dropped his keys twice before he managed to unlock the door. All he wanted was sleep and coffee and a shower in some order he hadn't decided on yet. The sunrise hurt.

He made it to the kitchen first, it being closer than the bathroom or his bed. He could sleep on the floor if coffee took too long to make after all. Halfway to sliding onto the floor under a cabinet, he noticed another pair of shoes in the room. Antonio paused with the orange juice carton against his lips when Gilbert wandered in. He opened his mouth, starting to say hello, but Gilbert ignored his eye. Was he still mad? That's what Antonio thought until he saw Gilbert tilt forward like the wood floor was his bed and he could fall face first into it.

"Gilbert!" Antonio cried, rushing for him. The man straightened at the sound of another voice. He rubbed his face and waved a finger in Antonio's direction.

"Hn…wassit? Toni?" He blinked multiple times before his eyes focused. "Need coffee!" Gilbert groaned into his hand and that's when Antonio caught the very pungent scent of alcohol. At least now he knew where their friend went off to. Antonio tutted at Gilbert, but set about making a pot of the bitter liquid he himself disliked. At least the smell he could appreciate. Gilbert liked his with a hint of milk, no sugar. Francis took his black with two sugars. Antonio made it for both of them enough to know.

"You shouldn't drink if you don't know your limits." A casual observation. Not a true critique, since Antonio delivered it with an off-hand air. Gilbert acted amusing both drunk and hungover so Antonio didn't mind either way. It just didn't match the fastidious way he kept up his health.

"Shut up!" Gilbert snapped, as irritable as always when his head felt like splitting. "I know them perfectly fine, thank you. I just ignore them!"

Well, good thing they cleared that up. After Gilbert drank a cup of coffee, his mood started to soothe over. Antonio had nothing to do until midday siesta, so he also sat in the kitchen. Over a very large shared omelet, each watched the other. Still, they said nothing. Not until they finished breakfast and Gilbert pushed back his chair, muttering something about a shower, did Antonio break his silence.

"Can I hug you?" He stood too, facing Gilbert across the kitchen. The pale man paused, jumping a little, then tilted his head. Those almost crimson eyes regarded Antonio with a serious air only Gilbert could give such a question. Finally, he relaxed as a grin quirked up one side of his mouth.

"Yeah, since when do you ask?" Gilbert chuckled before holding out his arms. Antonio swooped down on him and squeezed tight, but brief. Gilbert understood. This was them putting things in their right order again. He squeezed back and no ill existed between them anymore. Their friendship just worked this way. No need to explain or apologize; everything could be forgiven with a hug.

They pulled apart and Gilbert ran a hand through his hair, shuffling his feet as he remembered something. "Do you have work today?" Antonio explained he had the evening shift and Gilbert nodded, looking pleased. "Francis suggested I talk to you about figuring my life out. I meant to do that yesterday before we got distracted. I mean, if you want to share your experience and all. I'm gonna shower, but then, yeah…?"

"Awww, I'm so touched!" Antonio grinned. "I didn't think anyone wanted my advice. I'll start up Mario Kart and wait for you." Gilbert grinned back in answer to the challenge as well as the offer. Because Antonio understood better than anyone else that serious conversations happened best over a video game. They had the house to themselves since Francis didn't show his face often enough. Still, it wasn't so bad when they filled every empty space with laughter.

* * *

(AN: Btw, if you happen to see any typos in the text anywhere, let me know. I do a lot of editing, but sometimes something pops up in the last read through and I'd love to fix them.)


	8. Chapter 8

Friday brought romance and the scent of freshly cut roses. Each flower Francis carried bore the fullness of something raised by his hand with love. Bouquet over his shoulder, he waited for Alissa outside her on-campus apartment. Being two years younger and still finishing her last year of undergrad—a stop over before medical school—she found living there convenient. He zoned out every time she talked about it though. Not that he meant to, but a part of him would rather hear a dull conversation about literature. Arthur once told him only a man with culture had rights to be rich. Science did not count as culture so he ignored the subject. Alissa also thought this because wasn't she the type as well?

After a minute, she emerged in a skirt and blouse combo, both tasteful and not exceptionally feminine. Red flowers bloomed across her chest and only the heels added a girlish flair. She still needed to go on tip-toe to kiss Francis. Smiling at the gesture, he planted his bouquet of red and pink roses into her waiting arms. "You look beautiful," he murmured against her ear. "Here…" he tucked a flower into her hair to match the ones on her blouse. For a second, he admired the way the red made her emerald eyes all the more startling. "Now you can be a part of my garden."

She giggled and grabbed his hand. Together they set off for their young lovers getaway, a restaurant named Moonlight and Merlot. Francis liked to go on dates like this—pricy, but he had money. Despite his player persona, he enjoyed making people feel special, so even in the club back rooms, he respected those nameless faces. His gentleman's air never died. So who cared if all though dinner and through his compliments and tasty plate of veal, he found his mind drifting off.

He liked Alissa. He liked her and he reminded himself of it often. Then why did his attention fade when she talked? Why did he feel like they lacked something? None of this talk meant anything and that should have been fine, but it wasn't. He hung on every glance and gesture she made, but not the words. At least in his head he stopped calling her Arthur. Wasn't that love? He, after all, was an expert on love and falling so deep you could never get out.

"What about you? I had to talk about my week, so how has yours gone?" Alissa asked, slicing his thoughts in two. Francis blinked, smiling with the sort of ease that didn't show a hint of his distraction.

He gestured grandly with one hand and leaned back, all grace and properness. In a cultured place like this, he looked every inch the boy his mother raised him to be. "Mon cherie, I could listen to you all day, but if you insist." He sipped his wine to stall, still organizing his thoughts. The things he did between dates were not the sort he should share during them. Francis, for all his gentleman's attitude, had not remained exclusive. Alissa never asked him to and didn't that mean something? He longed for someone to ask that of him because it might be the only thing that would get him to change. After a second, he found a safe and technically truthful answer. "I've been in and out of almost every art gallery in the city. Of course, I cook dinner for my roommates whenever I can, or Antonio does. But I'm afraid my life isn't that interesting. The best moments are when I'm with you," he murmured, dropping his voice low for effect.

For a second, it looked like his words didn't convince her. Francis blinked. It's not like he really lied. He just treasured the moments at home as much as the ones with Alissa. "I met Antonio, you know. I wonder if he told you since you seem to share everything with those friends of yours."

Francis startled, for once paying full attention to the conversation. "No, he didn't say. I hope he was nice." But Antonio always acted charming so why worry? When Francis flashed a smile though, he received a grim purse of lips. Alissa didn't look happy, leaving his smile falling away.

"I really wonder…" she murmured. Francis looked at her in question, but she just shook her head without elaborating. Alissa scrapped the last of the sauce from her dinner plate before regarding him again. "I don't think those friends are good for you. You're a far better person than I could ever hope for, but then you spend all your time with those people? You could be so much more if you let yourself. They're holding you back!"

Francis' fork clanked against his plate. For a second, his carefully put together face fell apart as his eyes narrowed and his posture shifted with tension. He managed to bite out words after a second. "That's not something you have a right to tell me." She wanted him to pick between her and his friends? Francis couldn't abide by that. Why couldn't he have both? He shook his head, forcing his speech to stay civil because he would never raise his voice to a woman. "No matter how much I like you, my friends are precious to me. Even if they don't seem it at first, those two are without a doubt the best sort of people. I'll never stop being friends with them!"

Alissa fell silent for more than a minute. Francis' thoughts whirled, worried and elated and confused all at once. Finally, Alissa spoke in a whisper. "Are we breaking up?"

His eyes slipped closed and why did he feel like screaming and pulling out his hair at those words? It wouldn't be the first time someone asked him that. Always, always. He heard those words so often and he'd always say '_yes, I suppose we are__'_. Because he didn't care, right? He did though. All over again he found himself drowning in the delusion those green eyes created. They held him helpless and he didn't know if he even wanted to get away. Similar images coarse blonde hair and biting words overlapped, eyes that looked at him with hate, but ate him up all the same. Because he knew how soft that man's voice could get when he read books aloud in the library and Francis hid behind a shelf so he could listen. Alissa's soft voice reminded him of that Arthur, the one that he saw only from a distance. She could look at him in that adoring way. And yet, he hated what she said. He would not leave those two idiots of friends because they'd never survive on their own. Responsibly, yes, he would call it that. Francis shivered. _Push me away, please. _But those weren't the words he whispered in a meek voice."…Whatever you want, dear."

He didn't meet her eye so when Alissa burst into movement, he noticed too late and jumped. She dived across the table and stole a kiss from his unresponsive, stunned lips. Eyes dazzling and hard as a jade stone, she dropped her voice low with determination. "I hope not, because I don't want to let you go." With that, she sat down again and folded her napkin. Francis noted in the back of his mind that her hands shook. He just nodded because what else could he do against such eyes?

_However will my heart survive? Because I think I__'__ll never be able to let go now. _

The dinner ended quickly after that. Francis paid and found himself standing in the parking lot after returning Alissa home. He felt that something wonderful, but awful happened during dinner. It left his mind muddled so that he had to push those thoughts aside. Alissa did say one thing wholly wonderful though. She made him remember Antonio and Gilbert's importance to him.

Was he really pushing his friends away? How many times had he seen or really talked with them since school started? After meeting Alissa, the times plummeted and he couldn't help but feel guilty. As he rubbed his arms that prickled at the touch of the muggy air after being cool inside, he tried to think of a way to make it up to them. Because even if neither of them complained, he needed to make sure their friendship stayed as strong as always. An idea came to Francis as he opened his car door. Of course, how could he forget something so important? He started planning the entire drive home.

xXx

A week passed with a strange sort of energy in the home. Francis made sure to ask if the others had the next Friday night free. Antonio traded work times with a friend and Gilbert's calculus class ended at five. All perfect for his plan. If Francis wore an extra bright smile as he did what work he could from home, no one said anything. They certainly noticed though. Gilbert muttered during an exceptionally cheery breakfast, "What's up with him?" Antonio just shrugged. They would understand soon enough.

When the day came, Gilbert hurried inside to find the other two waiting for him. "Alright, where are we going?" he asked. Francis just winked and busied himself with gathering a few things. Antonio shrugged; Francis still wouldn't tell. The most he said was to remember their wallets and he handed Gilbert his fancy sunglasses that transitioned from light to dark, not the sort he usually wore because they never darkened enough. These he wore in dark places with glare. Curious.

Francis ushered them into his sleek silver sports car, looking far too pleased, even for a Friday. They had a long history of crazy Fridays and Saturdays, and miserable Sundays and Mondays. This Friday seemed more curious than the entirety of the previous year's worth of them. Francis wondered if either of his companions remembered the importance of the third Friday of October. He still pondered that when he pulled into the club's parking lot. Wouldn't they be surprised?

Antonio glanced up at the neon sign as they walked to the door. His brow furrowed. "The Oasis?" For some reason it sounded familiar. Recognition started to dawn on his face when Francis pushed them inside. Gilbert still looked around, at a lose. Rock music assaulted them and colorful lights flashed as if they walked into the middle of a concert with five hundred other sweaty bodies. Memories sparked when Francis whirled past the black leather seating and throbbing dance floor on his way to the fire exit.

"No way!" Both Antonio and Gilbert called out. Francis laughed and held the door open, motioning to the metal staircase beyond. Gilbert ran up the stairs, Antonio laughing behind him. Francis followed at an easier pace, staying back so he could watch them run like kids. Gilbert checked the door at the top and nodded back to them when the lock rattled uselessly. His grin looked the same as it had one year ago.

"They still haven't fixed the damn thing." Not one of them blinked because how many nights did they spend on the roof of this club? Together, they stepped into the evening air that held a crisp note for once, signaling the come of winter. Orange street lights flicked on below, serving as a landscape of stars below them. Above, the sky churned with a mix of indigo and cerulean that wouldn't go black until well into the night. As they walked toward that cityscape, the butts of many cigarettes squashed beneath their shoes. They spoke of the roof's often use and the reason the lock remained broken. Francis shut the door behind them and pulled a new pack of smokes from his shirt pocket. He held these up before he moved to the edge and sat between his friends.

"Happy anniversary. Shall we toast to one year of our…" he glanced at Gilbert and decided his choice word explained them the best. "…awesome friendship?"

Antonio chuckled and waited for Francis to light one cigarette. "I thought you didn't remember the club's name. None of us did."

Francis breathed in the smoke then passed his cigarette to Antonio who took it with their fingers brushing. A corner of Francis' mouth turned up in a smile. "I did forget, but when I was driving the other day, I saw this place and knew we needed to come back. Where better to celebrate us?" This club made them in so many ways. Without it, they likely would never have met. They didn't run in the same circles as Gilbert and yet fate chose to place them here.

"I can't believe it's been a year already, yet it feels like so much longer." Gilbert nodded his head as he took the cigarette next and breathed deep. He coughed, dropping his face into his palm as he held the cigarette away. "And these things still taste like shit!" Francis laughed and took his smoke back.

"That it does. Man, I still remember when I asked if you wanted a smoke and you thought I meant weed!" Francis burst out laughing. Antonio joined him and Gilbert just grumbled. He punched Francis in the arm just hard enough for him to whine and for Antonio to steal the cigarette again.

"So what if I got my slang a little mixed up! And seriously, weed tastes better. You looked all sorts of shady when you asked so I just figured," Gilbert complained with a roll of his eyes.

"That's because I was hitting on you!" Francis wailed.

Antonio nearly doubled over in laughter. "Oh my god, I just remembered that." He laid a hand on Francis' shoulder, his face solemn. "You really did sound shady, but don't worry. It was more like you were trying to lure an innocent maiden into your lair to eat. Not like you were selling drugs. Gil's the only one who would think that." He had the cigarette again and how did he keep stealing it so seamlessly? Francis groaned.

"That doesn't make me feel any better!" The other two just patted him on the back and Gilbert offered him a shoulder to cry on if he needed it, rubbing more salt in Francis' wounded pride. Somewhere in the process, the cigarette got lost and tumbled over the roof's edge. They settled down lest one of them be the next to tumble. Instead, Francis just lit another smoke and they continued to pass it around as they talked. Like always, all cigarettes came from him. Gilbert hardly smoked and Antonio couldn't buy his own. Besides, he liked borrowing from others. Francis didn't mind because this felt a little like sharing kisses, but far deeper and more poignant.

"We've changed a lot since then," Antonio said, surprising them all when he broke the silence first. Gilbert hummed in answer before snatching the cigarette for himself and trying not to look pained by it. Lord knew he was a mess back then, throwing himself into a show of teenaged angst a bit late in life. He knew the taste of pot better than tobacco and alcohol above both of them. This night felt so much better than then. His head was clear and that made everything so much more meaningful.

"It's because we're good for each other."

That, no one could disagree with. Sitting close enough to breathe in each other's smoke, it felt like they shared much more than air. Nothing they could define, but without a doubt, a something very precious. When they finished smoking, the three headed downstairs to wash the taste away with a drink. As the night descended it grew more lively as the alcohol flowed.

Gilbert swayed to the beat of the drums, not yet two drinks in. Besides the music and warm bodies, he didn't pay attention to anything. When he closed his eyes, he fell into the noise so that it thrummed inside of him, magical and alive. He loved this feeling that let him believe the entire universe existed inside of him and he could never be alone.

A low murmur of Spanish had Gilbert cracking his eyes open part way. He recognized the slinky, but powerful cage of Antonio sliding up behind him. Francis hooted from the bar. "Ya sure know how to pick em, Toni!" He joked as if they didn't know each other and Gilbert threw back his head, laughing with unrestrained joy. He pulled Antonio down and crashed their lips together. When he pulled away, he left Antonio blushing for once. And then the song ended and so did the spell. Gilbert cursed in his head that swam with something far more than beer. He wasn't even drunk yet and making out with his friends. He wanted to taste Francis too. Not sure if that was good or bad, he retreated to the bar and left Antonio alone on the dance floor.

The cool bottle felt good against Gilbert's heated skin. Francis pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, too charmed by the club to mind the taste of beer. Gilbert didn't turn away and Francis just crowded in closer, sharing the same barstool. "Why do you always pay Toni more attention?" he murmured low against Gilbert's ear. When he shivered, Francis grinned. "Hey, kiss me too." Maybe he did feel jealous. He planned this after all. They should both be crawling into his lap, though Francis had to admit, watching his friends make out answered many deep-seeded fantasies. Gilbert looked so free on the dance floor, so unlike himself.

The younger man shifted so that he nearly sat in Francis' lap, pulling him out of his thoughts. Warm arms looped around Francis' neck much to his surprise. "Kay," Gilbert mumbled before pressing their lips together. The taste of imported German beer spread through Francis like a fire. He brushed a hand through his friend's hair as their tongues tangled. Just like Gilbert thought, Francis tasted of wine and tobacco. He didn't expect the wash of cinnamon behind though. Gum? A second later, the kiss ended and the hooting of some nearby girls had Gilbert turning red. He cursed and disappeared into a bathroom to wash his face. A minute later, he stalked out, determined to get so drunk they would need to carry him home and maybe after, who knew. A buzz of excitement made Gilbert's hands shake. At home, wonderful things could happen.

It was after midnight when their partying finally winded down. Gilbert did his best to drink the place out of beer, but it was a slight improvement from last year. He still stood, though with a sway, and this time he had someone to take him home. Francis and Antonio pulled him out the door, protesting. "Not dun drinkern…" Gilbert whined. He hung off of his friends, unable to walk to the taxi himself. None were in a state to drive home.

"Come on Gil, walk by yourself," Francis slurred as he tried to push him into the car. Gilbert didn't really walk, but his ankles caught on the car's edge so that he tipped inside and onto Antonio's lap. The brunette busied himself with putting his seatbelt on and ended up having to do Gilbert's too, which felt useless after he flopped the other direction into Francis' lap. Before they reached home, he snored in a drunken stupor. If Antonio's hands strayed along both of his friends, no one said anything. When Francis paid the cabbie though, he looked just a little uncomfortable.

Once inside, they dumped Gilbert on his bed. A moment of silence passed where the other two shared a look. "Again?" The stillness broke. They dived for each other at the same time and stumbled into Antonio's room where they fell in a heap on the bed. Clothes flew aside without care or pause. When they both sat naked, Antonio collapsed on top of Francis. "We should do this more often," he chuckled, then moved to nibble on Francis' earlobe. As he stretched out, their bodies slid together, creating a friction that left both groaning. Francis lifted his friend's tanned legs so they straddled him and Antonio scooted closer to let the other lick his chest.

After swirling his tongue over one of Antonio's nipples, Francis lifted his head. "More often?" He grimaced at the thought. "I think my liver will pickle!" He'd be lucky if he could get it up now, though he liked to say no amount of alcohol could impede his ability to copulate.

Antonio laughed and yanked Francis' hair so he could kiss him again. The kiss soothed the pain in his scalp away before Antonio's sparkling eyes captured him again. "Not that." He pulled one of Francis' hands down to cup his ass. "_This._"

"Shit!" Francis cursed. He turned the tables and pushed Antonio onto the bed, no more worries about getting it up. His dick already twitched as he fumbled around and was pleased to find lube in Antonio's drawer. "I didn't know you felt like that. I have to admit, it's very nice. Always be my bed warmer, Toni," he whispered before spreading Antonio's legs.

"Don't forget Gilbert," Antonio added as he brushed a strand of hair behind Francis' ear. The tender action didn't match his earlier hair-pulling but that was Antonio. He did was he wanted, especially in bed. He let everyone else play out their kinks and take control if they wanted it, but there was always an untamed lust in him.

Francis snorted. "Greedy aren't you? You're very set on pulling him into our game." Not that Francis didn't have the same fantasies playing out in his dreams. He shoved two fingers inside Antonio to quiet him. The brunette let out a cry and tried to push himself onto the fingers to set the pace. Francis pinned his hips with a tut. He would be in control today and he twisted his fingers just to make that point. Antonio writhed and lay back, finally giving up and letting Francis play with him. "Gilbert can join us if he learns to hold his drink better!" he called in a loud voice, eyes cast to the not quite closed door. A sliver of dark showed the albino's room where another missed opportunity slept. It was starting to get annoying.

"Ooh, punish him, punish him!" Antonio cried, slapping his hand on Francis' back in excitement. Francis rolled his eyes and bit his collar bone before sitting back to admire the hickey left behind.

"How about you pay attention to what _I__'__m_ doing right now," Francis chided. He pulled out his fingers and Antonio shifted to give him better access.

"Then hurry up, idiot," Antonio whispered as he pulled Francis' head down and pressed kisses to his jaw. Francis grinned, then pushed himself inside.

Gilbert groaned and shifted, feeling like he floated somewhere between bliss and pain. Why did they leave him? He was still totally fine. He tried to say that when they pulled him out of the taxi, but he couldn't make his mouth work, or his feet, or eyes. He noticed things through the river of haze though, not being quite all the way unconscious. But seriously, where did those stupid friends go?

A noise filtered into Gilbert's muddled mind. "Hn…?" he groaned, finally getting his eyes to crack open. He knew that sound, but his brain couldn't articulate itself. The noises were too muffled or his ears just swam with too much alcohol.

"Ah! Francis!"

Gilbert's eyes shot open. He flopped onto his side and saw the door that led to Antonio's room. The grunts from the other side grew louder and Gilbert finally understood. _Oh god, I want that to be me so much. _Without thinking, he slipped a hand into his pants and started to stroke himself in time with the creaks and moans assaulting his ears. Small noises slipped past his lips. _What the hell. _He could come just from listening to them.

Antonio perked when he heard an echo following his and Francis' moans. "Shush!" he gasped, clapping a hand over Francis' mouth. The man's blue eyes went wide, but Antonio's fingers muffled his complaint. Right when he moved to pry the fingers away, a breathy sound filtered out of Gilbert's room. The two met eyes as their grins doubled.

Francis lifted Antonio's legs to drape over his shoulders. "…Gilbert!" he moaned with a hard thrust. Antonio cried out, "Gil, Gil…ah!" A squeal answered them, followed by a thump. They paused to listen to Gilbert flail on the floor, unable to mutter a real word. After a second, Francis called out to him. "You know, you can just come in here and join us!" The two on the bed shifted restlessly, unsure if they should pause their activities. Was it worth waiting for him in the middle of this? Before they could decide if Gilbert would come or not, the door creaked open. Gilbert shuffled in, clutching his undone pants around the waist. The only light on was a lamp, but it did them more than enough justice.

Sweat streamed off the bodies of the two in bed, both striving for more, but for the moment focused on Gilbert. He hung onto the doorway. Although they invited him, no amount of alcohol could kill this situation's awkwardness. And being drunk made it hard to stand. Gilbert forgot to blink. When he did and tried to walk into the room, Francis held up a hand. "Not like that," he chided. Gilbert shrunk away. Before he could fall back into the doorway though, Francis gestured over him and explained. "No one is allowed in this room with their clothes on!"

Gilbert's eyes slid closed as his heart danced. He breathed out and dropped his hand. His jeans pooled around his ankles. Off came his shirt and lastly his boxers. When he stood naked, the others motioned wildly for him to join them on the bed. Francis pulled out and indicated where Gilbert should sit against the headboard. He flipped Antonio around and Gilbert shared a kiss with him before Francis pushed him onto all fours. "Toni dear, do you want to suck Gil off?" He pressed a kiss to that tanned back and lifted eyes to smolder at Gilbert. The pale man gulped and reached a hesitant hand to tangle in Antonio's hair.

"Sí…" Antonio breathed. Lamplight reflected off the cross around his neck as he leaned down to stroke Gilbert's thighs. The younger man sighed in response and spread his legs more. When Antonio's breath ghosted against his erection, he moaned and threw his head back before Antonio swallowed him in one gulp. The sight of them was…beautiful. It didn't look like any of them would last long either. Satisfied with the scene in front of him, Francis thrust into Antonio again and the brunette let out a cry before going down on Gilbert again. Now sure where to put his hands, Gilbert moved his to Antonio's shoulders. He didn't want to lose himself in his passion and force the other man to take more than he could, but damn if this wasn't the exact fantasy he dreamed of, except Francis should be touching him.

Gilbert lifted his eyes. Francis met them and then he was pulling Gilbert by his hair and devouring his mouth. Antonio's hands tightened on his thighs and Francis' face painted in passion. He cursed under his breath and Gilbert almost fell backwards, but Francis wouldn't let go of his hair. "Scheiße, I'm gonna come!" Gilbert hissed. Antonio hummed around him, signaling his agreement. Tossing back his sweaty hair, Francis increased his pace. Gilbert reached a hand down to grip Antonio's erection and he came first, unable to take the double onslaught of pleasure.

Francis came after, dropping down on Antonio's back. Gilbert came to the feeling of nails digging deep into his skin. Antonio rolled to the side as his eyes closed. When the other two came down from their high, they saw him fast asleep. Francis slid down to curl around Antonio. They were a mess and he hated to leave clean up unattended, but post coital lethargy bit him so that all he wanted to do was lie in this warmth forever with his precious people. He reached for Gilbert's wrist to pull him down as well, but the man already pushed off the bed. Francis propped himself up on an elbow, confused.

"Where are you going, Gil?"

Gilbert paused. He looked at the way the other two wrapped together and his eyes softened. A second later, he stepped away and gathered his clothes, folding them without noticing it. "I'm going to my bed. You don't really expect me to cuddle there in that crowded space do you?" Francis couldn't tell if the real issue lay in cuddling or the size of the bed. Part of him thought it was the former, but he didn't press the point because they really wouldn't all fit on Antonio's bed. Maybe if it had been Francis', but he didn't have the foresight to start a threesome there. Without another word, Gilbert slunk away. The door closed with a gentle click before the lock slid into place.

* * *

(I really wanted to say thanks so much to everyone that's reading my story. It makes me feel really confident. This story has reached over 1k views and 20+ followers. That's the most I've ever had and I'm really grateful. Each review makes me want to continue faster even if I don't have many days off to work. Please keep reading~!)


	9. Chapter 9

Antonio woke a bit after dawn, still feeling groggy and slow. Sunlight drifted in through the window behind his bed so that it always pooled over him when he woke. He loved the light to come from that direction, so even if he could afford curtains, he wouldn't use them. Just the blinds left cracked open worked well enough. He shifted, but a weight kept him pressed into the mattress. Blonde hair shone out of the corner of his eye and a lazy smile split Antonio's face. He patted Francis' arm where it draped over him. "You're heavy," he complained with a fond air. The other man shifted and his beard scratched Antonio's neck so that he suppressed a shiver before poking Francis in the side for revenge.

He didn't wake, but did reclaim his arms to curl in on himself as if protecting his sensitive sides. It worked every time and it left Antonio free to slip out of his bed. He looked around and noted the closed door to Gilbert's room. They really did need to do something about his awkwardness. Gilbert advertised himself to be as much of a pervert as his friends, but he acted surprisingly straight-laced sometimes. When he let go though…Antonio licked his lips and gathered what he needed from a drawer left open and spilling unfolded clothes. He would get Gilbert to let everything go at some point. After all, that's what friends did. Still with nothing on, he walked to the bathroom. After placing his cross on the counter—his only possession he treated with this level of respect—he looked in the mirror.

Antonio burst out with laughter. He looked exactly like he should with his hair a mess and kiss marks on his neck, purpling against his darker skin. Without a doubt, he loved this look on himself best. The shower's warm spray washed off the night except for the marks on his body. Those he would gladly keep. He didn't care about his appearance like his friends, but he did like to keep his memories close like a tattoo. Kiss marks and a cross—he wore he two like a banner for himself.

Antonio cooked breakfast and then waited for his friends to wake. A night of sex in trio required a sit down meal. As all lovers knew, breakfast made you real. Breakfast said '_thank you, you were amazing and we will do this again__'__._

Francis wandered out first, looking confused to be in the wrong room until he spotted Antonio with his hair still a bit damp, sitting in the rocking chair he dragged into the kitchen. "Is it just me or did something cosmic happen last night?" he asked. Antonio handed him a coffee mug and opened his mouth. Francis held up a hand. "I mean like the order of the universe, not the sex. I remember that just fine." A grin crossed Francis' face, bordering on a smirk. Not that classy people like him smirked. He remembered the important things when he drank and only five or so times woke up having no idea who slept next to him. He preferred to leave and sleep at home after all.

Francis poked an eggs benedict with his fork and received a glare from Antonio. The feast couldn't be touched until they were all present. Francis glanced back at Gilbert's door. "You know he's not going to wake up before noon if you don't go get him," he sighed. "Ah never mind, you'll do something weird. I'll wake him up."

Antonio pouted and yelled after Francis' retreating form. "What do you mean weird?!" Francis shook his head and knocked on Gilbert's door. Weird meant pouring water on people or tying to wake them with sex, covering them in tomatoes, or knocking them on the floor with a laugh. If he did that, nobody would get to eat because Gilbert would break some fingers and run off in a fit. Oh yes to waking with sex though. Too bad they were too early in the relationship for that. _Relationship?_ his mind asked. Francis already had one of those, but he could maintain two different kinds couldn't he? It wasn't like the three friends dated.

A minute of silence passed and Francis tried the door handle. He silently crowed in victory as the unlocked door swung open. Gilbert only had the presence of mind to lock one in that state it seemed. He'd been pretty messed up. What if he didn't remember this night too? Francis stepped past a plastic container filled with magazines and came to the bed. "Oh Gilbert…time to wake up," he cooed. Gilbert laid on top of his covers, dressed in pajamas as if he put them on in his sleep. The left pant leg rode up to his knee and his shirt edge caught under the waistband. He looked as if he passed out while standing and just happened to land on the bed.

Francis shook his shoulder and Gilbert rolled over. "Go away…" he groaned. Francis squeezed his eyes shut with a pained smile.

"Now now, I know you're awake," he complained as he shook Gilbert's shoulder harder. The guy slept lightly most nights, but he could be so stubborn. "Toni's going to throw a fit if you don't come to breakfast."

Gilbert clutched his panda and squeezed hard. He had yet to open his eyes and that meant no matter how awake he sounded now, he could go right back to sleep. "Five more minutes." The panda muffled his words and Francis tried to pull the animal away. Gilbert's grip strengthened as he wrapped himself around the panda like a limpet and whined. "Noes mine, Ludsy!" This was just too much. No matter how cute Gilbert looked, Francis had only one cup of coffee and the patience to match.

He dropped down on the bed and straightened Gilbert's clothes, trailing soft touches the entire time. Francis had his own technique for waking people. Each motion of his fingers guided Gilbert until he lay on his back and loosened his arms. He didn't rouse and it allowed Francis to slip the panda away and take its place. Gilbert followed the feeling of clutching something after all and Francis would get hit if he noticed the panda left. Francis continued to take away the little comforts of sleep and his touches slowly brought Gilbert back to the world of living. Gentle like this, he didn't trip the younger man's stubbornness. Gilbert finally blinked his eyes open.

Francis smiled from where he perched on knees and elbows with Gilbert's arms around his back. "Good morning. We have breakfast waiting." He smiled and pecked Gilbert on the lips before the man's stunned expression fell away.

"Francis?!" Gilbert yelped, flinging his hands away as his entire face turned red. "Ah what, where-?" He glanced around and relaxed when he found himself in his room. Francis pulled back, still smiling. "What the hell are you doing? My head hurts," he grumbled with a groan. Rubbing his face, he squeezed his eyes shut again. The morning light hurt and it was _morning_. Francis woke him enough he couldn't go back to sleep though.

The blonde man took his hand and pulled Gilbert off the bed. "Did I mention the food is getting cold?" Gilbert slumped over, trying to crawl onto the floor again, but Francis just dragged him along on feet that struggled to keep up. A half minute later, he pushed Gilbert into the kitchen chair and took the stool himself. He decided to be selfless because he feared Gilbert would fall off the stool with how he lolled against the chair back.

"Good morning!" Antonio offered Gilbert coffee with a retina-burning smile. Both he gulped down greedily. They divided breakfast between the rose design plates, courtesy of Francis. Even though the eggs oozed a little cold, they still tasted wonderful and hungry as they were, no one chatted until half way through the meal. The food made Francis perk up and Antonio was perky before, but Gilbert still nursed his headache.

"So…do you remember last night?" Francis asked. Antonio nodded, realizing the importance of asking this with their younger friend. Gilbert looked up with a furrowed brow. He put his fork down and tilted his head. A few seconds passed with vivid expressions crossing his face, from concentration to distaste to shock.

"Ah!" Gilbert dropped his head into his hands again with a groan. "I totally do! Except, well kinda. How did we get home?" Not that this mattered because holy hell Antonio sucked him off. Nothing could get him to forget that. He looked hesitantly at his friends. "But what now?"

The other two laughed at his first question, but Antonio's pat to his shoulder felt warm. Of course, Gilbert still glared at his hand for good measure, not wanting to slip out of character too soon. Francis looked thoughtful and the others turned to him, waiting for a speech or whatever he planned. It made Francis glow that the younger two looked to him for big decisions. Antonio already made it clear with his looks that this night meant something and Gilbert's nervous face said the same thing. Finally Francis sighed and decided what to say.

"From this point on, we're official fuck buddies. We're each other's first choice in bed warmer and first in line for comfort. If you've got something you want to experiment with, come to one of us, no judgement. This is a pact of no holding back anymore. At any time, we're open to each other and-" His eyes darted over to Gilbert. "No locking doors. We're all in this together. Not one, not two, not two and sometimes a third. We're a threesome. Agreed?"

Antonio flashed his biggest grin and leaned over to Francis, nearly tipping the chair too far. He threw arms around the other's neck and snuggled closer. "Hmm, this is why I let you do the talking. You're so good with words," he murmured into Francis' blonde locks. Chuckling, the older man squeezed Antonio around the waist in response. Gilbert just gaped open-mouthed at them.

"What the hell? No he's not! You sound too formal and what's with these rules?! It's not like we're dating or anything." Gilbert huffed and crossed his arms, staring at the left corner of the kitchen with a flush rising on his cheeks. His stubbornness didn't stop them though. Antonio pulled away, but only because his chair rocked back and he almost collided with the table. Gilbert rolled his eyes. "I don't want to date idiots like you." He kept his eyes still on the corner, refusing to watch this lovey-dovey show from his friends. Francis scowled and and loaded a mushy bite on his fork and flipped it back. Gilbert didn't see the eggs coming until too late. They flew across the table and splashed onto his cheek.

"Arg!" Gilbert howled, clawing at the mess on his face with pure horror. "Idiot, idiot, idiot!" he chanted, still at a howl. He couldn't believe Francis of all people threw food at him. Francis! The definition of lame!

"Don't say idiot again!" Francis exclaimed. He waved his fork in threat and Gilbert would have snatched it away and shoved it into his neck but Antonio leaned his way next. He grabbed Gilbert's chin and before he knew what was happening, licked the eggs away. Gilbert cried out for a very different reason. His fork clattered across the floor as he flailed, hand crashing into the table. Antonio pulled away with a smack of lips and a satisfied smile. Gilbert groaned and dropped his face into his hands yet again.

"I really can't win against you guys can I?" Should he even be trying?

"Nope!" the other two grinned. Antonio stretched his hand out into the middle of the table. "Here's to the creation of the bad touch trio!" Francis raised an eyebrow but dropped his hand on top of the pile.

"Oh god, you've even given us a name. I'm gonna die!" Gilbert groaned. They stared at him to join them once and for all. He grumbled under his breath and Francis let out an impatient huff. _Oh what the hell._ "This is totally lame!" But Gilbert put his hand on top of the pile. Antonio raised them into the air with a childish cry.

"To forever!" Then he finally tipped his chair over backwards and with a flail of legs, knocked the rest of their breakfast to the floor.

xXx

The rest of Saturday went by quietly, most of it spent sleeping off hangovers and cleaning. Gilbert started a Super Smash Bros tournament and won without contest. This he rubbed in their faces, especially when Francis got no kills. Though he proclaimed it wasn't disgraceful to fail at video games as they had no relevance in life. Antonio laughed at his wounded pride; he killed Francis every time after all, except the ones he walked off the cliff on accident.

Since they spent their entire Saturday together in peace, just trying to get used to the idea of them, Sunday became the busy day. Gilbert lay on the couch where he fell asleep with his friends the night before. Antonio sat on the floor, chatting into his phone.

"Oh really? Yeah, I'll be there soon! Kay bye!" he chattered before hanging up. Just as he stood to slip away for a shower, Gilbert grasped his hand. Antonio turned back to see him shift under the blanket.

"Where are you going?"

"Oh? Were you listening to my call? A friend invited me to a quinceañera. It's going to be great! Just like it used to be, yeah!" Antonio chatted, saying too many words too fast. "These sorts of parties last a while and I'll get to see people who haven't wanted to see me in a long time!" He waved his hands about and Gilbert winced, still not fully awake. He shuffled a bit so he half sat with the blanket over his head.

"Will you be gone all day then?" He stifled a yawn which hid the rather sulky tone of his voice, he hoped at least. Antonio paused, his smile falling. It came back softer as he patted Gilbert's head.

"Did you get complacent with all of us around yesterday?" They didn't always get to spend their whole weekends together after all. Besides Fridays, they wandered here and there, working and playing except Gilbert. Outside of school, he had nowhere to go if he didn't play by himself. "Sorry, but yeah. Don't worry, Francis is still here and I'll be back for bedtime, silly."

Gilbert pouted. He hated himself for being soothed by those words and leaning into Antonio's touch. "It's not like I'm lonely or anything! Go to your weird party already!" he snapped and huddled into his blanket further. He should have stayed asleep. Antonio kissed the top of his head over the blanket before humming in the affirmative. He said a quick good bye and damn near skipped to the bathroom. He finished getting ready and left before Gilbert gathered the energy to move from the couch. When he did, he found Francis reading in his room with the door open.

"Hey." Francis looked up to see Gilbert in the doorway. His lips twitched in a faint smile and Gilbert continued before he put his book down. "Want to go out somewhere for lunch? Or maybe, stay in." He tried not to sound hopeful or desperate and instead kept his posture casual.

Francis turned his eyes away, looking guilty. "Antonio forced a big breakfast on me. I'm afraid I can't eat anything more until super," he explained.

"Oh…is that so?" Maybe Francis didn't get what Gilbert was trying to do here? And he called himself the master of innuendo. This would sound so much better in German. Gilbert was too direct to dance around like this so why the hell was he trying? As much as he called Francis' speech yesterday a ridiculous thing, it got his head spinning. No restrictions, no more reservations. Gilbert spent an entire day thinking about it and at barely ten in the morning, he couldn't wait any longer. He was giving in all the way.

A sigh went through Gilbert that left his body suddenly lighter. The entire air around him changed and he held his head higher, his shoulders more square, as he strode forward. Francis stared at him, the book in his hands forgotten. He didn't blink the entire time it took Gilbert to cross the room. The young man strode like a jungle cat with grace and predatory beauty, his feet seeming to glide. Gilbert straddled Francis' lap and twisted a hand in his ponytail. "Get a clue already," he whispered before he dropped his mouth over Francis'. Body pressed against the other man's, his eyes slid closed as their mouths devoured each other. It was about freaking time.

Francis ended the kiss with his eyes blown wide. He snatched his hands away from where they'd fallen to frame Gilbert's face. "Ah, woah! Hello, what's this, Gil?" Gilbert narrowed his eyes and decided that didn't need an answer. He slid his hands down to Francis' chest where his fingers danced. It should be very clear what he wanted. Before his hands could slide any lower though, Francis caught his wrists. "Hold on already! Ah, shit!" He dropped his head onto Gilbert's shoulder.

"Why?!" Gilbert cried out. He couldn't stop the tremble in his voice or the way his lower lip stuck out. It took so long to work himself up to this. He was giving himself over. Why? Gilbert started to pull away, but Francis kept hold of his wrists. He wasn't about to let Gilbert go thinking this was his fault.

"You know I would _love _to play with you, but you just had to choose now. Shit, shit!" Francis continued to curse. He glanced at his watch and slid his eyes closed only one second. He needed to make this quick. He pulled Gilbert in for a hug and a chaste kiss. "You picked the seriously wrong time. Look, I have a lunch date with Alissa and I need to go shopping before so I just don't have time." His voice dropped lower, warmer, as he brushed a white lock behind Gilbert's ear. "Because I want to take my time with you." Francis truly was sorry, but he'd be even more sorry if he reduced Gilbert to a quickie. The man slipped away from the bed and for a second, Francis nearly took it back. His face looked like a mask, all sharp eyes and a grim mouth.

"I'll leave you to it then," Gilbert muttered. A cold smile crossed his face as he waved a flippant hand back at Francis. "Tell her I said hi. Hey, it was just a whim. Don't worry about me. It's only boredom, but I guess I can message Roddy and see if he's still a virgin!" Gilbert laughed and stalked out of the room, head thrown back with pride and his hands on his hips. Francis watched with a confused expression.

Gilbert tossed himself onto his bed and screamed into the pillow so deep not a sound escaped. Ten minutes later, he heard Francis leave. With that, Gilbert finally let out the miserable sob from where he'd trapped it inside of himself. It wasn't just that Francis left. That frustrated, not upset him. The problem was they both left him behind and they _could_ because they knew people. Was Gilbert the only one with no other friends? He turned into a shut in and that wasn't like him at all. How insane was it that he couldn't understand who would be more important than him until Francis said that girl's name? He thought he hated her before, but now it was personal. Without a doubt Gilbert hated Alissa.

xXx

Late that evening, Gilbert lay on his bed doing calculus worksheets that reminded him too much of high school. He thought college would be less worksheets and more _something _else. He still didn't know what he wanted out of school though. Few of his classes appealed to him. The math came easy, but he didn't know what to do with that. He wasn't going to make a career out of mathematics and he didn't really enjoy it beyond the soar of completing a problem. It meant nothing to him. He dropped his head into his arms and groaned. His life just loved to torture him. After a day with his friends, it felt awful to spend an entire day without them.

His abs hurt from doing too many crunches and his head hurt for too many reasons to count. He liked to keep his body in shape and just like with cleaning, he ended up overdoing it in a state of turmoil. Maybe he was paranoid or insecure. He'd never admit that to anyone but himself though. Ever since his parents died and he found the harsher side of the world, he learned the importance of a strong body and mind. It used to be easy, but there was a time in his life that he felt weaker than he ever felt as a child. He forgot how to fight back and because of that, he'd never let his body fall into a state of disrepair again. Always, always he would be at his best. That's why he acted so vain and he loved the bonus of looking good, but he did it for his own protection. Why was it he felt the need to fall into that pattern of insecurity now?

Gilbert so lost himself fuming over everything besides his homework that he didn't hear the front door open. He forgot he lived with others after being alone for so long and the thrum of his music made him deaf to his surroundings. Francis eased the door open and slipped into Gilbert's room without him noticing. Gilbert lay on his stomach, sunk low in the bed with his chin in his palm, looking wilted as he glared at a textbook. It took Francis a second to recognize the bit of yellow fluff on his back as the bird he named after himself. If nothing else about Gilbert screamed self-absorbed, then that was it.

"I'm back," Francis called in a voice that should have been loud enough to hear over his friend's music. He dropped onto the bed almost on top of Gilbert and the bird took flight, chirping madly. Gilbert stiffened as Francis slipped a hand around his neck to turn his chin back toward him. One pale hand shot out, clawing at him as Gilbert flipped.

"Get the hell off of me! What are you doing?!" he yelped with wide eyes. His earbuds fell away, leaving him choking when he saw who stared down at him. Francis watched with surprise and concern. Gilbert dropped his hand and tried to crawl out of the other man's reach. The small bed didn't allow much distance though.

"Sorry," Francis winced. "It's rare to see you jump like that. You're not scared of being home alone are you?" He patted Gilbert's knee in comfort. A second later, Gilbert slapped his hand away with more force than necessary. Francis furrowed his brow as he rubbed his hand. He let the slight pass though because he deserved it. He knew he pissed Gilbert off although he wasn't sure about the exact cause.

The younger man turned his head away, relaxing from his earlier fright. It _wasn__'__t_ like him to startle, especially in a lit room at home. "I figured you wouldn't be coming home today." The only excuse he could come up with.

Francis smiled. "Well, she did ask me to spend the night with her and…you know. I thought I had somewhere else I needed to be though, or someone I needed to be with that is." He shifted so that he could crawl over the bed and close the distance between them again. Gilbert sat against the headboard and Francis knelt with his arms resting on top of the wood bar. His breath ghosted over the other's face with but a few inches separating them.

Gilbert shivered before a smirk crossed his face. He relaxed fully under Francis' eyes. "Does your girlfriend know about this? I think you just said you chose me over her." A strange flutter started in his chest when he said those words.

Francis' mouth twisted. "If you were bothered by my other relationships, you should have said so before you joined our union."

Gilbert mouthed 'union' back, utterly baffled by it. Did his friends purposely chose words like that to drive him insane? "Sorry, I forgot about that bitch until now." He lifted his lip in a slight sneer just thinking about Alissa.

Francis snapped him a glare, but a second later just sighed. "She's not a bitch and you needn't worry yourself over her." He dragged a hand through his hair, leaving it in an unusual state of mess. "She's one thing and this is another. They don't have anything to do with each other. I don't see why I should tell her about my other relationships."

Gilbert's frown deepened. "I hope you know how much of a bastard you sound like right now."

Francis caught hold of the black cord around Gilbert's neck and lifted the iron cross out from beneath his shirt. "You see things in black and white, good and bad. You're straight-laced and so very German it's painful. Even though you're horny, you're not a slut." Gilbert's eyes narrowed, but Francis didn't pause. "It makes you refreshing. It's time to loosen up though. This is a world of gray," he murmured with a bright flash of his eyes. "Not everyone wants me to follow the rules." With that, Francis pulled him down onto the bed. Gilbert closed his eyes and gave up. He'd allow himself to be selfish today.

"Then break the rules with me, Francis." He felt hands slide under his shirt and tease the skin there. Unlike before, Francis didn't strip him and go at it. It's what Gilbert expected, so the slow touches made him squirm. He blinked his eyes open again to meet Francis' smoldering gaze. Gilbert shifted as he tried to figure out where his hands should be. Finally he settled one on Francis' arm as he tweaked a nipple. His other hand twisted in the sheets when the other man started lavishing his neck with kisses.

Francis pulled back to admire his work as Gilbert started to unravel. He looked so uncomfortable in an adorable way. "You really are unused to letting others take control aren't you?" Gilbert bit his lip and cursed the way he always reddened so easily. He _was_ unused to this and it drove him crazy. They needed to hurry up or he might come undone before anything happened. Snapping open his pants button, Gilbert started wriggling out of them. Francis placed hands on his hips to stop him. His flash of teeth stole Gilbert's breath. "Don't be in such a hurry. I told you I wanted to take my time."

Gilbert groaned. Francis did pull his pants all the way off though and Gilbert chucked aside his shirt. He just started on Francis' shirt buttons when the man pulled something from out of his pants pocket. He placed the bottle of lube on the bed beside Gilbert whose eyes widened. The sight brought home what they were about to do. "I picked this up from my room. Figured you didn't have any lying around."

"I'm not shameless," Gilbert griped back. He still couldn't tear his eyes away from the bottle. Chuckling, Francis kissed Gilbert on the lips. No, he most certainly wasn't shameless. Just plain beautiful and laid out in the full light for Francis to see. He tossed his shirt behind him and bent to kiss his way down Gilbert's torso. The younger man only let out small noises until Francis spread his legs and picked up the bottle of lube again.

"Are you ready?"

Gilbert yanked a strand of his hair. "Just do it already!" He was already so hard and never mind the nerves. Francis coated his fingers and ran one over Gilbert's entrance. He tensed. Here it was. He was finally going to let someone fuck him again and he trusted Francis and oh god, his finger was pushing inside. Gilbert pressed the back of his hand against his mouth.

"Hey, if you're ready then relax a bit. At this rate, I won't be able to fit more than one finger inside." Francis had his buried up to the knuckle, but Gilbert squeezed it so tight he thought he'd lose circulation. Gilbert blinked his eyes open, not realizing he closed them in the first place. He saw Francis looming over him with his hair a mess and concern leaking through the passion painting his face. He looked so un-composed that it comforted Gilbert. He wasn't the only one. Francis pressed a kiss to the palm of Gilbert's hand where it covered his mouth. His legs stopped shaking and he took a deep breath.

"Sorry. I forgot how it feels on this end," he mumbled against his hand. "I'm fine, really." Bit by bit, he told his muscles to ease. Francis nodded and soon he was thrusting in two fingers without complaint. He tried to take his time since Gilbert felt every bit a virgin and Francis wondered just how long it had been since he did this. Eventually he couldn't be patient any longer. He pulled out his fingers and met Gilbert's eyes. A nod of silent approval met his gaze. Then Francis was pushing his way inside as Gilbert bit down on his hand. Everything felt so much he nearly cried out, but only a single moan made its way out.

Francis pressed a kiss to Gilbert's leg before he settled into a slow rhythm. The two moved awkwardly, still trying to figure each other out, and that was odd enough. Francis didn't do awkward in bed, but Gilbert made faces so expressive that they threw him off. This was Gilbert? There'd be no going back after this because Francis would make it so he'd never want sex from another again. It needed to be that good. Francis pulled him closer for an open mouthed kiss. "You're so beautiful." Gilbert moaned at that and reached down to touch himself. When Francis pulled back from their kiss though, movement caught Gilbert's eyes. He clapped both hands over his mouth and squealed. That only made Francis chuckle. "Oh, did I hit a good spot." Gilbert was too wide eyed to answer.

The pace Francis set had his eyes scrunching closed as the man jackhammered the bundle of nerves inside him. Having eyes on him didn't help either. Gilbert lasted only a few thrusts more before he came all over his stomach. Francis groaned and dropped his head onto the other's shoulder as he finished with a deep thrust.

Antonio stood in the doorway, arms crossed and his hip leaned casually against the frame. Gilbert smacked Francis in the head so he'd finally notice the other presence. "Oh…hi. Since when were you there?" Francis spun, trying not to look guilty. Antonio had a critical eye and lacked his usual smile. It made the other two nervous.

"You promised me you would wait." Antonio started to tap one foot and Gilbert looked between them, confused. This was planned? Since when?! Francis just pouted and flung his sweaty hair out of the way.

"You were late." Antonio's eyes narrowed and he jumped to explain himself better. "It's not my fault! I was totally going to wait, but then this guy went and jumped me and how was I supposed to leave him lonely?" Francis begged with a jerk of one thumb at Gilbert. Antonio's lips pursed and his shoulder's started to shake. It looked scary until they realized his lips were pursed like that because of the smile he tried to force back. It made its way out anyway and Antonio bit back a laugh.

"Wow really? That's unexpected. I figured it was all Francis' fault." He pulled away from the wall and closed the door again. "But I really wanted to be a part of this and then you were almost done when I came home. Can you imagine my pain!" Antonio exclaimed as he strode into the room, waving a hand as he talked. Gilbert watched them with a tired eye. Francis shrugged one shoulder.

"Sorry about that, but you can have him now."

Gilbert's eyes snapped open again. "Wait what?! You want me to do that again!?" Both pairs of eyes turned to him. He pulled himself up onto his elbows which shouldn't have been as difficult as it was. His heart still pounded and his body felt like one big throb. The looks his friends threw his way left him shivering, just a bit nervous. "No way, I'll break!"

Antonio dropped onto the bed to wrap arms around Gilbert. "But you wouldn't want me to feel left out would you?" His pout tortured Gilbert, but he still didn't feel like saying yes. Antonio pulled him into his lap nonetheless and he could do no more than whine. Francis left him too boneless to pull away so he needed to lean back against Antonio. "See, you can definitely go another round!"

Gilbert groaned and clutched at the other's arms. "You're so mean. If I can't move tomorrow, I'm totally holding you responsible!" It was all he could say though because he couldn't reject Antonio. Gilbert wanted this no matter the circumstances. Antonio tilted his head back to lock their lips. The kiss he initiated built a slow passion that made Gilbert's head swim. He had yet to catch his breath when Antonio slipped a hand down to finger his hole. Francis hummed and moved to sit against the pillows, looking relaxed and very pleased. It was probably by coincidence they fell like this with Antonio holding Gilbert's legs open as if to display him to Francis. It only made the fire in him burn more.

"Wow, you're still tight," Antonio murmured as he slipped a finger inside. Gilbert very nearly whimpered. He felt twice as sensitive after doing it once. A simple touch drove him crazy so that even though he came minutes before, his cock already twitched to life. Pressed up against his butt crack, he could feel the very hard Antonio behind him. Without any more foreplay, he lifted Gilbert by the armpits to position the man over his length.

"Ah, no way! So quick…ha!" he gasped as he felt himself sink down. Antonio breached him with a slick sound and Gilbert felt every inch of it slid in. There was no holding back with Antonio. He leaned back against the wall and guided Gilbert with hands on his hips. The younger male had no choice but to follow the quick shallow thrusts as best he could. Without being invited, Francis crawled over to them. Gilbert watched with a wary eye because he couldn't quite glare right then.

"Looks like he's enjoying this pretty well after all. Hey Gilbert…do you want to feel even better?" His hand came up to grab Gilbert's erection. He received a bark of his name in response, so Francis bent over to take him in his mouth. Gilbert seized before a cry ripped out of his throat. His head fell back onto Antonio's shoulder as their intense pace continued. _Oh my god, he__'__s actually doing this to me!_ Then he couldn't think anymore.

Gilbert may have been too breathless to comment, but Antonio kept up a steady stream of chatter just like the last time. "Oh Gil, you're doing so good. Just a little longer. Are you going to come soon?" A cry served as his answer. "Good, then come for me." Francis pulled away to jerk him off with a hand, using his mouth to kiss the other two instead. With Francis leaned over to tangle tongues with Antonio, Gilbert finally came. Antonio keened as well and then warmth filled him. Gilbert slid down against the other two, unable to hold himself up any longer.

Antonio patted his cheek a few times. Gilbert blinked and found himself against the pillows, his friends still wrapped around him. "Ah there you are. Show me those pretty eyes," Francis murmured. Gilbert had nothing to say to that. When Antonio disappeared and came back with a damp cloth, he only thought how nice it felt to be cleaned up. The feeling didn't happen to him often. However, when Francis pulled back the sheets and tried to snuggle under them with him, Gilbert roused.

"Go away," he whined as he pushed Francis' chest. Antonio dragged him down into the bed and curled up against his back. "No seriously, I hate cuddling! Hate…sleeping together." Gilbert's feeble attempts to push the two away did nothing though. He fought just to stay awake. Anything more was too much. Francis smoothed back his hair and kissed his forehead. When he pulled away, he wore so self-satisfied an expression that Gilbert didn't recognize him.

"Not tonight. You can't push us away so we're not going anywhere. Just sleep already." Gilbert couldn't fight anymore. The pull of sleep held him too strong. He drifted off in a sandwich between two warm bodies, grumbling all the way to the end. Strangely, it felt perfect on the bed too small for them so that no space existed between their bodies. Gilbird started chirping until Antonio's snores drowned him out. And they slept so late both Francis and Gilbert missed their Monday morning classes.


	10. Chapter 10

Over the next few weeks, the three settled into their own sort of routine. They felt like new friends all over again, or like they'd been away for years because there wasn't enough time in the day for each other. If they weren't so caught up in it, they would find the change in them strange. Without a doubt though, so much had changed. Like they turned a switch, all reservations dropped away. They became everything Francis proclaimed they would. Many nights were spent together as they got used to them. Whether in duo or trio, every surface in the home became the victim of their horniness. Only after some time did they begin to cool off and return to a relationship that didn't feel as if on drugs.

Francis trudged in the front door from a lecture that went on thirty minutes past the end of his class time. He spotted Antonio in the kitchen and some of his weariness came off with his coat. It was chilly by LA standards as the days of October dwindled away. The alcohol themed calendar pinned to their fridge showed the nearby date of Halloween, circled in red by an overzealous Gilbert. He about flipped out last year when he discovered the American holiday of fright, drinks, and pranks. After the calendar appeared in their home, he marked only Halloween and their birth dates.

"What are you doing?" Francis asked when Antonio set something on the counter. A chirp answered and he furrowed his brows. When he came closer, he saw Antonio holding out half a cherry tomato to the canary perched on his other hand. Francis did his best not to choke. "Does Gilbert know you're doing that?!" He watched Gilbird eye the tomato with a few birdish tilts of the head. Then the canary dipped down and pecked a seed out of the red blob. _You__'__ve got to be kidding me. _

"I found him in my room so it's Gil's fault. He's out of bird feed too." Antonio huffed at the expression Francis gave him. "I did look!" he gestured to Gilbert's cabinet where he normally kept it. "I figured…it's fruits and seeds for birds right? But we have no seeds."

Francis shook his head because he almost saw Antonio's logic and that was probably a sign his friends' intellects affected him for the worse. He took the tomato away and popped it into his mouth. Antonio whined but Francis just rolled his eyes. When the bird squirmed as it to get away from their attentions, Francis poked its roundness. "I don't think he's going to starve. I mean really, I can't believe this fat thing can fly."

Antonio giggled and Gilbird finally escaped his grip. The bird skittered onto the counter and from there flew in small bursts out of the kitchen. "I thought all canaries were fat though. It's cute, like something from a cartoon," he commented. "Gilbert obviously loves him a lot." If food quantified love anyway.

"Seems like it, but if he loves that thing so much, why is it always loose? Don't care if he says he's got it trained. One day it's going to fly out the door and Gil's going to make us search in the middle of night for that yellow ball of fluff." He snorted, disgusted with that idea. It was a bird, not a cat or dog. He understood the attachments people got to their pets, but a canary seemed a bit much. He did like the bird though, even if it chirped at odd hours because just like Antonio said, it was damn cute. Something clicked and Francis' eyes went wide. "Ah, maybe that's it. Gilbert figures he doesn't need to lock the bird up as long as it's heavier than a squash."

Antonio spit all over him as he burst out laughing. "I'm going to tell him you said that! You're hurting Gilbird's feelings, meanie!"

"What the hell, Toni!? That's nasty!" Francis wiped his shirt off with a towel, giving Antonio dirty looks every few seconds. Not that it got Antonio to stop laughing. "Where'd Gil go anyway?"

Antonio waved a hand and pulled more tomatoes from the fridge, these for himself. He popped one in his mouth and answered before he finished chewing. "He heard about a pick-up soccer game and went to join or complain about our name for the game. Not sure which." They'd both heard the very lengthy tirade on American football and they don't even use their feet much. And why can't American's call soccer football like the rest of the world? The one-sided conversation could go on for an hour if he had a beer in him. This left both Francis and Antonio chuckling as they thought about the poor saps who would become Gilbert's next victim. He tended to kick shins _hard _when playing sports too.

"Well, that's good. He's finally getting out and making an effort to integrate," Francis commented. As far as they knew, Gilbert didn't have many friends back in Germany either, but he seemed like the type to go out and have a good time. Him branching out again felt like a good step. Francis liked to think it was their influence that got Gilbert on his right foot again. "Now he just needs to find a career path."

Antonio popped a tomato into Francis' mouth, stopping the serious direction their conversation took. "Baby steps, Francy, baby steps." Then he leaned in and kissed the sweet juice away.

xXx

Two days before Halloween, Gilbert got out of his morning class feeling hungry and very in need of a pick-me-up from his friends. There was something so wrong about taking English classes with losers who didn't get the language well just because he was an international student. The things the school system required baffled him beyond belief. As useful as the American culture bits proved to be, they came too late to him. He got some nasty shocks the first few weeks of last year, but his language skills needed no help. Parking his clunky pick-up in front of the house, he decided he'd steal lunch from Francis instead of eating out between his classes. Better yet, not go to his second class of the day.

He shoved open the door with a yell. "Anyone home!?" Gilbert followed the smell of food to the kitchen and stopped dead in the entryway. Antonio glanced up from where he knelt on the floor, licking white splashes off his face. Francis leaned against the counter, his button undone and a very satisfied look on his face. Both froze to stare at Gilbert. More white dripped down Francis' bare chest in the silence.

"…Uh, it's…"

"Alfredo!" Antonio finished for Francis, smiling like he had something to be guilty over.

Gilbert glanced away from them and shoved his hands into his pockets. He didn't mind them hanging over each other without him at all. They could finish each other's sentences and he couldn't care less. He couldn't change how well those two knew each other. A strange feeling came over him so that he found himself rooted to the entryway.

"Gilbert, close your mouth already. Drool over lunch when I actually serve it!" Francis whined as he moved to tidy himself up. Gilbert snapped out of his trance and crossed the kitchen, moving closer to his friends than usual. The itch inside him refused to ease, leaving words jumping out of his mouth.

"Hey, I'm dying to buy my Halloween costume. Come shopping with me guys!" And damn if he didn't sound whiny. He almost let himself latch onto Francis' arm to see if he could replicate Antonio's puppy dog eyes. Thankfully Antonio answered before he got that desperate.

"I already have a costume. Sorry, can't come," he sung. Antonio looked somewhere between regretful and incredibly pleased with himself as he imagined his costume. Gilbert's face fell. Francis blinked at the odd display. He checked his phone for appointments and nodded.

"Ah no, I'm free." He stared intently at the screen, flicking through a few pages. Every now and then he lifted his eyes to glance at Gilbert. When Francis flashed a grin, it settled the uneasiness in his belly. Francis didn't seem to notice this though and kept talking, mostly paying attention to his phone. "I wasn't planning on dressing up this year, but I don't want to be the odd one out. Have we been invited to a party or something?" He supposed there was no age limit on holiday fun especially if it involved sexy costumes, alcohol, and edible glitter. "Let's go after lunch."

Gilbert smiled with a nod. "Yeah, sounds good. I thought we could just go out and have fun. Throw toilet paper at houses. Scare some kids shit-less….get drunk. Someone please invite me to a party!" he exclaimed, looking almost giddy. Francis rolled his eyes and Antonio wished them luck with a mischievous chuckle.

A while later when Francis and Gilbert started to peruse the costumes, an interesting question came to mind. "So…what do you think Antonio's planning on wearing?" Gilbert asked as the eyed some leather concoction he wasn't sure was intended for a man, woman, or some creature in between. Antonio never explained what his costume was and they were too distracted to ask at the time.

Francis slapped Gilbert's hand away from the strange outfits he was eying and dragged him to a more appropriate side of the store. "I have no idea and I don't want to know." His eyes caught on a pirate hat which he perched on his head, letting the white plume flutter down to his shoulder. "Sometimes, that guy makes no sense at all."

xXx

Antonio sat on the couch indulging in Gilbert's potato chips. He was debating which soap opera to watch when his phone rang out. Setting the bag aside, he picked it up without looking at the caller ID and called out in a cheerful voice. "Ello!"

"Uh, um…you're the one that tried to call me the other week, right? I've been meaning to…get back to you…idiot…" the weak words hesitated and then hesitated some more. A five second silence filled the line. Antonio choked on a chip as he shot up straight on the couch, stared at his phone, then moved it back to his ear.

"Lovino?!" Antonio forgot to breathe, forgot what words sounded like. He just sat there like an idiot, barely able to hold the phone with his trembling fingers. This was a dream wasn't it? Gilbert actually got Lovino to call him back? Holding a hand over his heart, Antonio managed to reply. "Ah yeah, sorry about that. My roommate was being an idiot. I'm so glad you called! I was starting to think you really hated me or something!" he rushed out. Once the words started, they couldn't stop. "Lovi you're-"

"Idiot! Breathe if you're going to talk so much," Lovino cut him off. Antonio realized he hadn't breathed in the length of multiple sentences. He gulped in air as his cousin continued to chat in a tone somewhere between constipated and frustrated. "Anyway, it's not like that. This is something I've been meaning to do for a while. Because…"

Another voice filled the background on the other side, similar to Lovino's but less frustrated and pitched higher with cheer. "Tell him I said hi! And that thing we talk-"

"Shut up bro! Why are you hanging off of me anyway? Ah!" A scuffle sounded in the distance, ending in a squeak presumably from Lovino's younger twin, Feliciano. "I said I was going to do the talking because you always forget what you're saying!"

Antonio chuckled at the two of them. It had been so long since he heard his cousins playing around like this, at ease in his presence. Or almost presence? This was over the phone. It felt like the old days and he could almost believe the dark times ended. Everything was about to smooth over. Always the optimist, he let that hope soar so that it consumed him. Antonio dragged in a deep breath and yelled back. "Hi Feli! I missed you soooo much!" He missed them to such a degree he needed to yell it loud enough to be heard in the San Joaquin valley where his family still kept their farm.

Lovino stammered in anger and Antonio had no doubt he turned as red as the tomatoes they both loved so much. "Don't you be an idiot too! W-why do you yell so happily for him? Stupid cousin, I'm the one who called you."

A softer smile crossed Antonio's face. "Sorry, you know I miss you too Lovi." Why was he always such an idiot around Lovino? He wanted so badly to be someone the younger male could look up to with pride, but more often than not, Antonio literally tripped over his shoelaces in front of him. Especially now when he had so much apology to say and no idea where to start. He was afraid if he didn't say it all now he'd never get another chance. A lump rose in Antonio's throat and he choked back the sob that wanted out. Emotions always surged with no warning and ran away with him. He could only wait them out and hope the damage didn't come out too terrible. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Lovi. Please tell me you don't hate me. Please!" he pleaded as the tears started. He didn't even feel bad about showing this weakness to someone he wanted to respect him.

The silence on the line persisted longer than Antonio could stand. It left him plenty of time to cry silently. _He hung up didn__'__t he? He always hangs up on me and still I care about him so much. Why do I always care about the people who are hurting and can__'__t be honest and they__'__re so alone I can__'__t stay away._ It's why his love stuck to Lovino more than his brother whom Antonio originally thought of as cute and lovable. But everyone thought Feliciano was lovable. No one said, _"__aw, Lovi is so cute.__" _So Antonio said it as many chances as he got and then some. He knew everything about the boy so that Antonio felt closer to him than his own brothers and sister.

"What are you apologizing for? You didn't do anything wrong." The soft words didn't match Lovino at all. Antonio's heart skipped a beat as his breath stilled.

"What?" He couldn't stop himself from asking the hollow question. All of his thoughts stilled as well. Whatever he expected Lovino to say to him, it wasn't this. "You don't think that I'm…" he hesitated to say aloud the horrible rumor that consumed his life for the past few years. "That I'm a pedophile?"

"Che, of course not. You're an idiot and overly comfortable with everyone and you don't listen when I tell you to stop hugging me, but you're not a freak. No, you're just you. I-I don't care if you're gay or whatever. That's your choice and it's got nothing to do with me. But, er…well…It doesn't have anything to do with me right?"

Antonio swallowed hard. "Why would it?" This wasn't making sense to him anymore. It took another half minute before his mind even half caught up with the situation. He'd been living with the idea that his family hated him because of the false rumor for so long that he didn't know what to think outside of it. "Wait! Then why have you been avoiding me all these months?! I know you said before that you didn't believe them, but then you stopped talking to me. What's that about if not the _incident_?" He knew it had been three years since things went to hell in his life and his cousins stayed on his side through most of it. He thought it strange they turned away after most of it already blew over. But why?

A thump answered him before Feliciano's voice took over again. "I wanted to call you, I swear! But Lovi said we needed to keep quiet until we thought this all the way through and, ah don't pull my curl!"

Lovino muttered a few choice insults, as creative as they were harmless before he took the phone again. "Neither of us think you're a pedo and we're not the only ones. The thing is, mom and auntie never told us a lot about it. I mean, besides when the police showed up and asked us about you…we didn't get why _us._ That is to say…we know now." Lovino swallowed hard and Antonio couldn't shake the feeling that the person talking to him wasn't his cousin. Somehow an alternate universe settled over them with a clone Lovino and a clone him. A Lovino who hesitated before speaking in a quiet voice and an Antonio who forgot how to smile.

The sinking feeling in his stomach returned. "I don't get what you mean." He really, really didn't, or he didn't want to.

"We saw a photo of the kid you slept with."

Down, down…sinking so far down. Despite the lights being on, Antonio swore he sat in the dark. So this was it. He would have disgust thrown at him after all. He should have known better than to get high on hope. "Look…it's not what you think," he whispered.

"Not what I think?! He looked exactly like me! Like copy and paste onto an eighteen year old kid's body and what the hell, Antonio?!" Lovino wailed in a voice as shrill as his brother's. "I'm your type? You like me or something?! Answer me, god damn it!"

Antonio did try to answer. "It wasn't on pur-"

"How could you do something like that to us? If things are like that, of course I wouldn't want to talk to you!" Lovino took a deep breath as Antonio sat in stunned silence. The younger male gathered enough calm that his voice didn't hurt Antonio's ears, not that he noticed either way. "That's why I wanted to call you. Me and Feli talked and we've decided that things are no good the way they are now. It's no good for either of us. Toni…" Alarm buzzed through Antonio at that. Lovino never shortened his name and it sounded wrong under such a harsh tongue. "You should stop calling us. I mean it."

"Oh…you really think that…?" Where was his fighting spirit? _Lagging behind just like usual._ It always lagged at the worst times. But then, Lovino said this himself. He wanted Antonio to go away and what right did Antonio have to say no? He couldn't bring himself to be angry, even if it was to defend himself. "Feli, you agreed to this?" Dare he even hope?

Wordlessly, Lovino handed the phone to his brother. Feliciano cleared his throat and responded in a voice too quiet and calm for him. "I'm sorry, Antonio. I was the one who suggested it." Feliciano started to cry and the sniffles interspersed his words. Normally he had such a weak will and would run when the tears started flowing, but today he forced himself to stay perched on his brother's bed and keep talking. "I think we're all just hurting each other and if we indulge you, nothing will change. Brother is scared and hurting and you must be hurting yourself too just clinging to us. This isn't goodbye forever! When things change here and you get over your feelings, you can come home and we'll all be so happy to see you. It's good right? Please tell me it's good." In the way that only Feliciano could, he said so many words that hurt without trying.

Antonio really didn't think this was good. He opened his mouth, trying to protest. A horrible misunderstanding kept going, but no matter how hard he stammered, only the word 'no' came out. Feliciano continued to cry and yet he shushed Antonio like a mother, trying to comfort him instead of himself first. "D-don't worry, everyone's starting to forget about this now. It won't be long…we'll change their minds and you can come home. So please fall in love with someone who's good for you. Ah Lovi, don't take the phone!"

"But guys, I'm really not in love with Lo…" The phone cut out. "…vi." Antonio sat in the silence, staring at the blank tv with his phone still pressed to his ear. "W-what was that?" His voice wobbled. With shaking fingers, he redialed. The twins blocked his number though and he found himself sliding onto the floor. "They didn't let me…didn't let me try?" He almost melted to the floor and stayed there until his friends came home and wondered if he died. What would those two say? Would they laugh at Antonio for not fighting for himself? He found himself laughing because wasn't he the most awful sort? His seventeen year old cousin actually thought he was in love with him, actually sexually attracted to someone who would have been just starting high school when this entire thing started. _God, I am going to burn in hell._

Antonio's stomach lurched so that he ran for the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before he hurled. He tried to expel all of the bad emotions from his body, but it didn't work. The food in his stomach ran out before his uneasiness stopped. He needed something to ease this feeling. "Why doesn't anyone understand me?! I just want to love people," he choked. "Why is it so wrong?!" Images of a pack of beer flashed in Antonio's mind, waiting like a temptress' fruit in their fridge. He pulled himself to his knees and blinked at the stranger in the mirror.

Was this the face of a monster? He felt so happy when Lovino said he wasn't. Somehow, the misunderstanding he had instead hurt more because it scared Antonio. What if there was some truth in it he didn't know about? When he fell into bed with the boy two years younger than him, he hadn't been thinking about anything. The boy had a cute face and soft hair like the tabby that gave birth to kittens under their porch. He didn't know it mattered he had wide caramel eyes or dark brown hair. His cute face just appealed to Antonio. But the boy looked younger than his eighteen years and someone accused him of statutory rape. That got cleared up quickly, but the rumor just grew in strength. Maybe the boy looked sixteen at best, but it didn't mean Antonio had interest in crossing legal lines just because of his lax nature. As the rumors spread, the age of his preference went down. Once the word pedophile got associated with him, it never went away despite there being not a shred of evidence for it. The burden it brought to his traditional, Catholic family sent relations splintering at the seams.

Antonio blinked his eyes shut as the tears kept spilling. He still remembered when Lovino dyed his hair darker and gave his family such a fright. At age ten, the action looked daring, like the beginnings of a delinquent attitude. Since the farm took so much work to manage, all of his familia lived together. Antonio heard the adults quarreling and became curious. When he found Lovino hiding under the orange trees, he was the first who asked him why he did it. That's why Antonio knew he dyed his hair to that fateful darker brown so he wouldn't get confused for his twin brother. At the time, Antonio gave the boy his brightest smile. _'__Of course you two look different. His hair curls to the right and yours to the left. You spend more time outside and already you__'__re getting darker and more built. I don__'__t need hair dye to tell you apart!__'_ Those heartfelt words left Lovino clinging to him in tears. It was also the day he became special to Antonio because he saw a unique and insecure person who could be just as cute as his brother in his own way.

The first beer washed down Antonio's throat in a few quick chugs. Almost immediately it started to go to his head, but it didn't cure the thoughts swirling inside. He reached for another without pause and the mental tirade kept running.

If Lovino left his hair the lighter shade of brown he'd been born with, would this day be happening? Would it be enough difference for Lovino to see he made a mistake? It wasn't fair at all. An acrid emotion rose up in Antonio like the bile that still burned his throat under the beer. They said he was hurting himself. No, that wasn't his doing. They were hurting him and didn't they know that? All Antonio did was pick the wrong partner for the night and that one act became the only thing he ever regretted. He kicked a cabinet and scowled.

Over his shoulder went the beer can. It still wasn't enough. It took only one second for him to grab the forbidden object from the top cabinet. The bottle of rum looked nearly full and he pulled out the stopper. He knew better than to drink like this, but today he didn't care. Antonio found himself glad his friends left to shop. Francis knew his part of him, but Antonio desperately wanted to share only his good side. He could only let go like this in solitude. It gave him the excuse to tip back the amber liquid into his mouth. No witnesses. No victims. He welcomed the burn to his throat. Today he deserved to be selfish.

xXx

It was late in the evening when Francis pulled up to the house. Gilbert jumped out and sprinted for the door. "I win!" He turned back and stuck his tongue out at Francis then jumped inside, cutting off a yell.

"Hey! You're leaving me to carry everything!"

Gilbert glanced around and didn't immediately see signs of anyone. He was so full of excitement that he went storming through the house looking for them. "Toni, guess what we bought! Our costumes are totally amazing and you better not look lame next to…us?" He finally paused when he reached the kitchen. Didn't it smell a bit like a bar in here? He spotted Antonio slumped over on the floor, nursing something in his hands. "Hey, what are you doing down there?" Gilbert crouched to help his friend to his feet. Antonio didn't respond and only then did Gilbert realize he held a liquor bottle. Wait, what?

Antonio's eyes snapped open. He moved in a sudden flash so that Gilbert found himself pressed against the wall. "W-wha?" Antonio shoved him back so hard the wind knocked out of him, but Gilbert wouldn't know what to say even if he could.

Warm breath tickled against his neck. "Just go with it," Antonio murmured, his lips finding the sensitive place just behind his ear. Gilbert shivered, his eyes squeezing shut. It wasn't that he minded this dominate side. It almost had him squirming under the too warm breath, but something kept him from it. No matter how pleased he was to be Antonio's subject of attention, this felt all wrong. He pulled himself away from the roving lips so he could see his friend's face.

When Gilbert met Antonio's eyes, his heart stilled. Those normally so expressive green orbs looked cold and hard, narrowed into slits unlike anything Gilbert had seen on his face before. He shivered because the eyes stopped looking green. Purple orbs took their place as another body super-imposed over the one pressing against him. Everything in Gilbert went stock-still from his lungs to his fingers. Fear and anger churned together, then confusion because when he blinked, it was Antonio standing in front of him again. Gilbert had only one second more to look before Antonio flipped him around and twisted his arm behind his back. "Stop it!"

"No!" Antonio snapped back, sounding just a little childish instead of controlling and wrong, so wrong. "Why can't I have what I want?!" But Antonio didn't say things like that. He always played the part of the selfless one. What he wanted? Gilbert did think he should have that, but what did he want and why did he have to be the one to suffer for it? Where the hell was Francis because he always had the answers to these kinds of questions. Before Gilbert could scream at the top of his lungs for Francis to get his butt inside, Antonio pressed himself up against Gilbert. One hand slipped down to grab his ass and Gilbert's eyes went wide. He spun around and kneed Antonio in the gut.

"I'm not so cheap as to let you use me like a damn toy!" he screeched as Antonio finally let him go. No one got to look down on him like that. Never the hell again. Just for scaring him like that, Gilbert landed a punch on the other man's face. "Who the fuck are you because you're not my Toni!"

Francis pushed his way inside with multiple bags full of costumes, candy, and decorations. It took him nearly five minutes to get it out of the car and a minute more to get the door knob to turn, leaving him grumbling about Gilbert the entire way. The brat made them stop for coffee and apparently espressos were a bad idea although normal coffee didn't seem to do much for him. Francis was just padding his way to the living room when a scream filled the air.

"Stay away from me, bastard!" Gilbert yelled.

Antonio's voice snarled back, low and unfamiliar. "I'm the bastard here? Why don't you stay away from _me_!"

What? What was this? Francis froze in shock. A crash sounded and he cursed, dumping everything on the couch. He rushed to the kitchen and let out a small noise when he reached the doorway. Gilbert lunged for Antonio and Francis jumped forward in time to grab him from behind. Antonio's nose dripped with blood which he didn't try to stop. He just stood there with a blank face, so Francis turned his chastisement to Gilbert.

"What are you doing? You hit Toni?" Gilbert didn't struggle against Francis' grip and instead shrank into his arms. Francis' brow furrowed and he wrapped his arms tighter around the pale man. "What's going on in here?"

"I'd like to know that too!" Gilbert yelped. "He…he…" But the explanation stopped there. Antonio's expressionless face twisted until a grin split it. His eyes blazed and that's when Francis noticed the beer cans, one of which still spun on the wood floor. Antonio didn't normally drink without them. Did something happen? His eyes lighted on the bottle of rum, half empty and for now abandoned on the counter.

"Antonio, are you drunk?!" Francis exclaimed in incredulity. Distress flashed through him as an old memory emerged. This wasn't good at all. He stared at Antonio with wounded eyes because he promised he'd never get drunk again, but the man just kept grinning. Francis had to fight back a shiver when Antonio answered.

"Drunk? All I did was play a little joke. It's not like he wasn't asking for it," Antonio chuckled. Gilbert started struggling again, but he shrunk back the second Antonio's eyes lighted on him. Francis released his hold and Gilbert slipped behind him in a second.

"Go to your room, Gil," he ordered and Gilbert dipped his head in a jerky nod. "I'll deal with Antonio." With that, the younger male escaped the room and his door banged shut. Francis tip-toed his way around Antonio who watched like a predator waiting for an opening. Francis refused to give it to him. "I don't know why you're like this, but something terrible must have happened. I'd say no matter what's wrong, it doesn't give you the right to hurt your friends, but I know you won't listen to a lecture now." This person wasn't Antonio. It hurt Francis to see him like this again and not just because Antonio shocked him in the past.

A semblance of sanity came back to Antonio's face. "I just wanted to feel a little happiness. I always give it to others so why can't I take my smile back?" He shifted closer, his voice pleading. He still moved with a hunter's stance though and Francis knew if he got caught, he wouldn't be able to pull himself away. Antonio was too strong when like this. "Let me fuck you, Francis."

He shook his head. "No, not this time." Francis jumped for the counter and Antonio chased after him. Francis reached his goal first, grabbed the bottle, and was gone before Antonio reached him. For a second, he hesitated on which direction to run first. He wanted to disappear into his room, but he decided against that. Francis knocked on Gilbert's door. "Hey, let me in!" he whined. The lock undid twenty seconds later and he slipped inside. Gilbert dropped onto his bed again and Francis redid the lock. He eyed the room's owner, taking in the knees pulled to his chest and the stuffed bird squeezed almost to popping in his hand.

When Francis took a step, Gilbert shot him a sullen look from over his knees. "I thought you were dealing with Antonio." They could still hear noise from the kitchen, none of it soothing to their ears.

"Are you crazy? There's no way to deal with him when he's like that except wait for him to pass out," Francis exclaimed. He brandished the bottle of rum and set it on Gilbert's desk. "All I did was take this away. Can I sit?" Gilbert eyed him with the same sullen expression, not responding. "Come on, I came in here to hide just like you!"

"Why didn't you go hide in your own room?" Gilbert huffed. He shrugged one shoulder though and glanced at the blankets next to him. Francis took that as invitation and perched on the bed's edge. Antonio quieted down and it allowed them to sit in silence. "He's done this before?"

Francis sighed and rubbed his head against the ache forming there. "Your room was closer? Ah really, Antonio is scary when he's like that!" He groaned and shuffled closer to Gilbert. In truth, Francis chose this room because he didn't think either of them wanted to be alone. Memories were a bitch like that. "I only know of one time that guy ever got drunk to this degree. I didn't know he was like that and got caught. I just let him fuck me though because I don't care about those things." Even so, he didn't want to repeat the experience. He cared only a little at the time, but now he thought he shouldn't have let Antonio use him the first time either. It felt too much like he let a stranger fuck him even if it felt good.

Gilbert had yet to move and kept his face hidden behind his knees. He didn't usually act like this and even if Antonio turned into a violent, selfish person when drunk, Gilbert shouldn't look like this. "No shit he's scary!" he exclaimed, the words muffled by his knees. "I hate him. I fucking hate him!"

Francis' eyes went wide. "Hey, you don't mean that do you? Gilbert?" He furrowed his brow and reached for the huddled form next to him. When Gilbert didn't flinch away, Francis slid one arm around him. He made the right choice coming here after all. This couldn't be just about Antonio's actions. Gilbert stuck to them like glue and Francis didn't think they could do anything to make him hate them. Didn't Gilbert need his friends like a giant stabilizing axis in his life? That's what Francis always thought. "Aren't we close enough now for you to tell me what's really bothering you? How about…oh, this might help." Francis picked up the rum again and took a sip. If one of them was getting drunk tonight, he might as well have a drink. The bottle was his in the first place. With one word, he tapped it against Gilbert's side. "Here."

Looking up, Gilbert took the bottle. After a few more seconds he took a sip. Gilbert wasn't sure right now. Did he mean it when he said hate? Everything just got so muddled up in his head. He hated someone, but right now, Antonio was merging with that person and Gilbert hated getting unraveled like this. He let out a deep breath "He reminds me of my ex-boyfriend when like that."

Francis snatched the rum back before Gilbert could tip a large amount into his mouth. He wasn't planning on them drinking that much. "Eh seriously? Um, that guy who's name you mentioned before? Exactly what kind of person were you dating…?" Francis remembered when Gilbert called out the other's name—oh what was it? The moan sounded tender and begging. But Gilbert called him a bastard afterward and if he acted like a drunk Antonio, then he must have been.

"Look, it doesn't matter. The past is the past and I loved him once, but he hurt me. That's how the story goes, right? I don't know what you expect me to say." Gilbert turned his back on Francis and pulled the sheets over his curled up form. Francis kept watching him though and those worried eyes ate at Gilbert. He glanced over his shoulder and groaned. "I'm sorry but even if I want to tell you, I'm not ready yet. No one knows about this except for my family and I kept Ivan from them as long as I could." He turned his head back into his pillow. "If…I do tell someone else about it though, you know it will be you and Toni, right?"

Francis nodded his head once. "You know I respect you enough to wait. And don't hate Toni. He'll get his head screwed on right again and he'll say the same thing. Just have a little patience. We're all far from perfect here, right?" Gilbert snorted back and Francis ruffled his hair. When Gilbert demanded his panda, Francis handed it over with a smile. "Are you going to sleep?" It wasn't even eight at night yet. A long silence filled the space before Gilbert answered.

"…No. And I'd really appreciate it if you left."

"Well, I'd love to and all, but I'm hiding remember. Uh, I'll go sit over here on the floor…" he muttered as he slid down to lean back against the bed on the far side. "Don't worry, I'll let you have your privacy and I'll go after Antonio passes out." But in reality, Francis didn't want to leave Gilbert alone. He heard the man's breaths turn even with sleep and the silence outside the little room, but still he didn't move. He stayed on the floor and guarded over his friends, hoping this wasn't the thing that formed splinters in their inseparable bond.


	11. Chapter 11

Gilbert and Antonio wouldn't meet each other's eye. Both locked themselves in their rooms and Francis found himself a mixture of annoyance and concern about to bubble over. After one day, he'd yet to get them to talk to each other. Gilbert kept sulking and choking on his pride. He might have gotten over that with a little help, but Antonio moped worse than a heartbroken high school girl. The most Francis got out of him was, _'__it__'__s over. I__'__ll never be able to look my cousins in the eye again.__'_ He had no idea what that meant, but felt obligated to snoop and found Lovino's name under his recent calls. Never a good sign and Antonio wouldn't elaborate no matter how much he pressed.

Another day passed and Francis found himself sitting on the couch, alone yet again. He knew they had reason to be fighting, but this didn't even feel like fighting. Those two just shut themselves away and Gilbert was angry at Antonio and Antonio at himself and his family. And Francis couldn't get the two of them to say that to each other so this could get over with. He couldn't remember a fight between them ever lasting this long. Gilbert could fight for weeks with Francis, but not Antonio. It was Halloween morning and it'd pass them by if Francis didn't do anything about it soon.

"I'm going to put the stupid plastic jack-o-lanterns outside!" Francis called, knocking on Gilbert's door first. He heard shuffling and guessed Gilbert moved to the door, but he didn't open it. Francis resisted the urge to put his hands on his hips since the gesture would be wasted.

"Why are you telling me that? I don't care what you do with them. But like…take a picture or something?" Gilbert muttered in a hopeful tone.

"Seriously?! If you want to see it, them come out and look yourself!" Francis huffed. He considered himself a very patient man, but today it wasn't holding true. "You're the one who wanted to make Halloween a big deal so maybe I won't do anything with your decorations since I don't care about it." And he really would. What was the point since he only got into the holiday for his friends' sake. There was hardly any point if they hid in their rooms. When he didn't get a response, Francis turned on his heel and started to stalk back to the kitchen. He would just cook his stress away because nothing warmed a home like pumpkin pie.

"W-wait!" Gilbert exclaimed, his door banging open. He hopped into the hall, looking a little like a hobo in his wrinkly jacket, novelty LA shirt, shorts, and mismatched socks. Francis quirked an eyebrow from where he stood almost in the kitchen. "I'm just going to decorate okay. I sure as hell can't leave it to you and your artistic sensibilities!" Gilbert snorted and stalked to the coffee table where the shopping bags still sat. He gathered as much as he could and started for the door. Francis narrowed his eyes, feeling too confused to jump at what sounded like an insult, though being called artistic shouldn't have been.

"…what's that supposed to mean?" Francis grumbled before he grabbed the bits Gilbert missed and followed him outside. Gilbert dumped his pile in the middle of their modest lawn that mostly consisted of the flowers Francis planted at the start of the fall quarter.

"If I let you decorate, it will take forever! You'll deliberate on the details like an artsy-fartsy retard. Shit, it's totally warmer outside than in!" Gilbert cursed before ditching his jacket, though he did fold it. Sometimes Gilbert could be so strange. He eyed the blue sky with a very near glare. "No seriously, you know there's something wrong with your winters right? I keep forgetting jackets are stupid in this city."

"This isn't chilly?" It was in the low 60's which seemed chill enough by Francis' standards.

"No…it really isn't, weirdo." To hear Gilbert describe his hometown of Havelberg, it sounded like an idyllic snow covered village in the winter. Having lived in LA all his life, Francis couldn't imagine it and he thought he'd surely die from that much cold. One adapted to the warm, sunny, and rather one-season climate of this area. Gilbert threw a fallen rose bud at Francis' face. He yelped and spun to see Gilbert jab a finger at him. "Pay attention already and bring that jack-o-lantern over!"

It took them ten minutes to toss everything together. Three jack-o-lanterns in all—two on the porch and one at the bend in the walk way leading to the door. Gilbert really didn't let Francis involve any artistic sensibilities. As efficient as ever, the lights were hooked up to them and bam, on went the screechy noise-maker by the door. Their house would scare kids away that year instead of attract them. Then again, Francis thought that's exactly what Gilbert planned.

They headed inside, feeling much more relaxed and ready for the coming holiday. Almost as soon as they deposited the empty bags though, the mood changed. "E-eh?" Antonio jumped from where he stood in the kitchen with a glass of orange juice. He glanced between the other two, his green eyes blown wide. When he meet Gilbert's eyes, his own jumped down to stare at his feet. Francis noticed his hair, less attended to than usual, and the lack-luster glow to his eyes. Normally those green orbs, while not exceptionally bright, expressed everything so clearly. "I was just…Francis said he would make a pie…"

"I was going to do that next. Do you want to help? Otherwise I'll get Gilbert to," Francis nodded. Gilbert didn't object like usual despite cooking being a little too girly for him. He stood with his arms crossed just outside of the kitchen, but his eyes never left Antonio even if he only watched from the corner of his eye. Francis couldn't figured out his expression. It looked a bit hesitant, but not angry or wary like before. Antonio never once met his eye though. Maybe if he did, this awkwardness would end.

"Ah…no," Antonio murmured. "Francis makes really good pie. I just want to eat it." His shoulders lacked their usual confidence. Only when he backed out of the kitchen, muttering a quick excuse, did he glance over at Gilbert. The younger male missed his eye though, even if Francis saw the look there. He recognized both regret and guilt before Antonio vanished around the corner. For once in his life, the guy didn't try to beg forgiveness or hug it out. What happened when drunk deeply bothered him it seemed, along with whatever went on in his family. Since when did Antonio think he was too low for forgiveness? Because Francis thought Gilbert would give it if he'd just ask.

"So, what's in a pumpkin pie?" Gilbert asked when the two of them were alone. Francis put a hand on his hip, just staring.

"Pumpkin. Now are you going to help me or what?" He impatience was growing again.

Gilbert made a face of disbelief and snorted. "Oh hell no! Your on your own, Francey." He tossed a wave over his shoulder and stalked away. "Enjoy your girly pursuits! I'm gonna go watch that weird movie with the skeleton guy."

A second later, Francis found himself alone in the kitchen and far less excited to cook. He ground the heel of his hand into his forehead. "I'm going to strangle them. I really, seriously am."

Later that evening, Francis perched on the couch with his mouth set in a frown and his foot tapping on the floor. A bowl of candy sat in front of him as the sun sunk lower in the sky. The lack of his friends mocked his efforts. Why bother with his costume if he had to play alone? Well, Gilbert put his costume on earlier, but he sat in his room watching movies with the door half open—enough for Francis to see he hadn't moved in hours. Antonio would be the tough cookie. If he didn't feel like being cheery, they'd never get to see what strange costume he prepared.

One minute later, the doorbell rung, marking the start of trick-or-treating. Francis whirled to the door with his candy bowl. Ten sets of hands reached for it and bam, headache. Over and over, kids and doorbells, and hardly getting a chance to sit down. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. During a break in the flow of trick-or-treaters, Francis snapped aloud for the entire house. "Am I going to do this all by myself?!" He saw Gilbert jump even with headphones on, bat wings bobbing on his back. "If I bought my costume for no reason, I am going to pour every ounce of alcohol out and smack you upside the head with the empty bottles!" Francis stood there fuming in front of their rooms. Gilbert glanced back over his shoulder, eyes wide. Half a minute later, he shuffled out to stand by Francis.

"No reason to yell…yeesh," he muttered, sounding meek. He shifted from side to side like a kid that just got chastised and that's exactly what happened. Francis glared down at him with all the fury of an elder. Once he had Gilbert though, attention quickly turned to Antonio's door.

"I know you heard me!" No response. Well that wouldn't do. Gilbert watched with an incredulous eye as Francis yanked open the door and yelled again. "Put on your costume now!" Antonio squealed and tumbled to the floor. "I'm going to finish handing out candy and then we are going out. Even if I have to dress you myself, you are coming with us! We're supposed to be friends. What happened to the trio forever?" Francis dragged in a deep breath to cool his tirade. "Halloween isn't Halloween without you guys!"

Gilbert hung his head and Antonio pouted at Francis. "Give me five minutes." Francis pulled the door closed again and had to hurry away when the doorbell rang again. Gilbert stood in the hall as he shifted and tried to get his tongue un-stuck. He felt too childish, dressed like a demon in tight pants and a shirt that didn't fully cover his stomach. His fake tattoos smudged at the edges and the horns sat crooked in his hair. Francis still manned the door when Antonio emerged again. A sprig of green sat on his head and everything else…red. His outfit bulged in the middle, a bit like a fat santa, but that was no santa costume.

Gilbert looked down at his tall black boots and plastic tail bobbing behind as if to make sure he dressed for the right holiday. "What are you supposed to be?" he asked, not even snarky or insulting. He sounded just plain confused.

Antonio pointed a finger at himself, eyes wide in their usual innocent question. "Me? I'm a tomato of course." Was this confusing in any way?

"A…tomato? What is that? You're serious?" Something shorted out in Gilbert's brain as he looked at his red blob of a friend. Out of nowhere, a laugh bubbled up. Gilbert couldn't help it. He just started laughing and Antonio blinked at him before he started laughing too. "A tomato. A tomato!" Gilbert fell back against a wall from the force of his laughs. Every bit of tenseness just burst out as if something broke. He found himself on the floor, hugging his sides as he wailed. A fucking tomato. It was so Antonio that it hurt. The two of them sat on the floor, laughing in hysteria as only two people so on edge could. Tears streamed down their faces as the weight of the past few days flew away with their laughter. They laughed until their bodies went limp and they couldn't even laugh anymore, just choke on tears and the spasms of their stomachs.

Francis cleared his throat as a kid in a superman costume stared past his legs at the scene. "Er, don't worry. Those two are totally fine. They've just had a hard time of it lately and lost their minds a bit. Would you like a tootsie roll?" He'd barely handed over the candy before the kid dashed away. Just as he swung the door closed, he heard the kid yelling.

"Mommy, the adults there are really weird!"

"Do I need to call an asylum?" Francis chuckled. He found this behavior surprising, but not in a bad way. Thank god someone started laughing again, even if too much. Gilbert shook his head, still unable to speak. Antonio raised a hand, trying to ward Francis off, but other than a giant grin, he managed only a sobbing, "No!"

When the hysterics finally died down, the two were left staring at each other from a foot apart. Francis slipped away to let them have the moment. Antonio looked hesitant like he wanted to throw himself into Gilbert's arms but couldn't allow himself to. Gilbert bit his lip. He was still angry and hurt, but in that moment, the hesitation lasted only that, a moment. He shook his head and jumped on top of Antonio, his arms squeezing painfully. "Hey, I really forgive you." As he buried his face in Antonio's hair, he felt himself grow light and giddy again. He never forgave first. Always, he held onto his grudges until the magical 'sorry' where he could toss the grudge aside as if it didn't matter in the first place. Why shouldn't he just forgive without being asked to if the problem could be tossed aside that easily? He yanked Antonio's hair. "Just…don't fucking do that again!"

Antonio's arms wrapped around him just as tight. "Of course not! Never again! I'm so sorry, Gil. Even though I know I'm an awful drunk, I did it anyway. I was just so hurt!" He knew that wasn't an excuse, but he still felt the need to explain. His friends deserved that much and as soon as their night of fun ended, he'd share his troubles. For now, he wouldn't ruin Halloween. He knew how much Gilbert looked forward to it.

Francis dropped down on the floor, wrapping his arms around them. "And the trio is reborn! Now can we please go out to play? I think that was the last of the kids. The night is opening up and it's time for the grown-ups to rule," he intoned with a grand gesture and a grin.

"Count me in!" Both Gilbert and Antonio exclaimed at the same time.

xXx

It amazed Francis how easily the three of them fit together again. They roamed the streets like three lions ruling over their pack. The city streets were their jungle and they owned it. He shouldn't be surprised that they fell into ease with each other so quick. He hung back a little, content to watch the others play around. The three had something amazing that very well might never be broken. If anything, today proved it. How could they stay angry after laughing like that? Francis chuckled to himself just remembering the poignancy of that painting perfect scene. If he had as much artistic talent as love for paintings, he'd create some wonderful compositions inspired by his friends.

Hm, large odalisk a la albino. He'd hang _that_ over his bed. Gilbert jumped in front of a group of children and screamed. "Prepare to have your souls eaten!" He bared his teeth with red fake claws outstretched. The kids jumped and Antonio cackled. Francis pulled the plastic sabre from his waist and whapped Gilbert on the butt with it.

"Be careful or souls won't be the only things getting eaten tonight," he chuckled and tossed the white plume of his hat over his shoulder. Gilbert squealed and the children made their escape. With Antonio still cackling, Francis slipped his blade back into its scabbard. His costume looked elegant compared to the other two, although Gilbert went all out with the makeup so shadows edged his red eyes, almost enough to make a person shiver. The demonic role suited him too well. Francis' own boots clacked on the pavement because of their slight heel. His teal and blue coat, medallions of gold, and feathers carried an aristocratic air not often associated with pirates, but he refused to look dirty. He tied his wavy locks to the side of his neck, leaving the large hat tipped to the right. He thought he looked very dashing and told his reflection that when dressing.

Gilbert stomped ahead with his arms crossed. One wing smacked Antonio and he nearly tripped, having difficulty maneuvering in such a round costume. To think, Gilbert said those wings were too tiny. He walked around with no awareness of his accessories and hit both of them multiple times already with the wings. Francis reached over, trying to capture one of the leather and plastic annoyances when Gilbert whirled around. He jumped back, trying not to look guilty. Gilbert didn't notice anyway. "I want to try trick-or-treating before we get there!" he announced in a loud voice.

"Hey now, that's a bit…" Francis started but Gilbert already took off for the nearest house with a porch light on. Antonio tore after him with a gleeful, and not particularly sane laugh. Gilbert jabbed the doorbell five times until a tall man with short blonde hair and glasses snapped the door open. His stern expression meant nothing next to Gilbert's excitement.

"Trick-or-treat!" Gilbert cupped his hands because he didn't have a bag. "Now give me some fucking candy!" The guy who answered jerked a little in surprise though his facial expression didn't change. He glanced behind him where they could all see the mostly full platter of candy on an in-table. Before he could move though, Francis caught up with them.

"Don't give him candy!" Francis yelled as he slapped Gilbert's hands down.

"What? Why the hell can't I have candy?!" Gilbert fought back as Francis tried to drag him away. "This is the American thing to do right? You told me to integrate! I'm pretending to be American!"

Francis used his eyes to plead with the man who stayed in the doorway, too frozen to move for the candy. "And you hate sweet things, especially our candy! Why do you want some? You won't eat it!" Francis snapped. By then, he had control of Gilbert's flailing limbs. Francis wouldn't eat the candy either, preferring something higher class than Hershey's. He didn't want that crap in his house! Gilbert screeched and bit Francis. The older man lost control again in a flurry of feather fluff and plastic accessories.

"So? It's Halloween!"

The glasses wearing man glanced between them, looking very much at a loss. Antonio popped up from behind his friends and held out his hands. "Can _I_ have some candy?" He put on his most dazzling smile as Francis and Gilbert flailed toward the driveway. The man stared at him before retrieving the candy. Antonio didn't miss his long suffering sigh though.

"Take what'cha want," he muttered almost too low to understand. Antonio shoved two hands into the candy and grabbed as much as he could carry. After thanking the other man loudly, he skipped off after his friends. The man closed the door behind them with a strangled noise. He was definitely not getting conned into handing out candy next year.

They ate most of the candy before they finally reached their destination. Ten minutes later, Francis dropped the 24 pack of toilet paper into Gilbert's arms where he waited outside the little gas station. "Shall we just pick a neighborhood and go at it?" The three shared a devilish grin before they traipsed into the nicest neighborhood within walking distance, ripping plastic away from the rolls with glee.

"And away they go!" Antonio called as a roll sailed through the air, trailing white streamers behind. The toilet paper lodged itself in a tree and he gathered another weapon. Gilbert busily shot roll after roll at the two story house, his aim scary perfect and his expression that of a man with an attack plan. They were already TPing their second house and still had toilet paper to go. Twenty four rolls could cover a lot of ground.

"Gil, you missed a spot," Francis pointed out just to get under his skin. Not that he wasn't getting just as into the 'sport' as his friends. Gilbert's eyebrow twitched.

"Give me another missile, stat!" Antonio tossed it over and Gilbert chucked it at the trellis. "And I think our work here is done," he stepped back with a satisfied smirk. "How many do we still have left? Five rolls?" He paused in the lawn they'd littered, pondering the conundrum. Suddenly he clapped his hands together. "Let's go throw these at the house where that guy wouldn't give me candy! He looks like the type to get an ulcer from fun!"

"Oh my god, he would!" Francis groaned. "But how are we going to find the house again?"

Gilbert snorted. "I remember exactly where it is! Don't you guys pay attention to anything?" He animatedly chatted and was about to continue when a roll bounced off his head. Antonio whistled, hands behind his back. Gilbert snatched up the roll and was about to throw it back when a cop car cruised down the street intersecting the one they stood on, going slow enough to watch.

"Shit, run!" Francis screamed. Gilbert didn't have time to protest before the other two grabbed his arms and started running. The cop car flashed its lights and they tore off. They made a mad scrabble through an open gate and plastered themselves against the side of a house. The car passed by and Gilbert and Antonio fell against Francis on either side. They crushed him and he opened his mouth to complain, but the words died in his throat. A distant porch light threw them in high-relief and the run left them flushed and sweating. A heart beat later, lips locked and hands tangled, not sure who to grab first. They just traded touches in a frenzied dash.

A light flooded the yard as a voice broke the spell. "Get out of here you drunks!"

Antonio burst out laughing and the three scrambled away, their hands still clinging to each other. "Oh my god," Gilbert burst out. He could barely speak, too out of breath with arousal and laughter, each mixing inside of him into something wonderful. The yells chased them out to the street and away from the neighborhood.

Francis stopped to catch his breath. He lost a gold button at some point and his boot heel turned wonky. The green tomato top hung around Antonio's neck and Gilbert's tail stuck out more to the left than back. At moments like this, he could really appreciate Gilbert's choice in costume. Francis squeezed the man's tight-black-clad butt as he pressed himself against Gilbert's back. With his chin on the pale man's shoulder, he whispered in his ear. "How about we all continue this at home?"

Antonio reached out to tangle a strand of Francis' hair around one finger with casual grace. "I think that's a given." He leaned in to kiss Francis as one hand slid up Gilbert's thigh. Gilbert gasped and grabbed the wandering hand.

"Home! He said home!"

And Francis just laughed.

* * *

(Notes: Odalisk, for those who don't know, is romanticized painting of a prostitute. Or in general, a painting of a lounging naked woman. .

And yes, the un-named man they go trick-or-treating to is Berwald because it's just too hilarious. Can you imagine him staying in LA? And giving out Halloween candy? Yeah, me neither.)


	12. Chapter 12

November saw a drop in temperature and the start of an usually cold winter for the area. Gilbert strolled along the beach, away from the city's smog. He wouldn't get his shoes in the sand, but he walked close enough to see the palms and the waves. They relaxed him enough to fall deep into his thoughts. He always figured that was a myth about beaches, never having seen one before moving to LA, but the waves naturally led to deep thinking. He neither loved the beach, nor hated it, but right now, he couldn't think of another place he'd rather be.

Although Halloween brought the three of them together again, some things never went back to perfect. Maybe just too many things changed. It felt like after one week of make up sex, they didn't quite know how to handle the three of them. More often than not, if one wanted to play around, they just went to the first person available and one got left out. They had different schedules so it was only natural. Of course Gilbert loved that one-on-one moments happened too. Deepening the relationship in parts deepened the three of them as a whole, right? The thing was, he noticed that the one always getting left out was him.

He didn't want to bring it up. It wasn't that big of a deal. He probably blew it out of proportion in his mind because they were all happy together and he was still getting some. Gilbert didn't need sex to be happy despite sometimes playing the part of pervert. This just made other anxieties rise in him and then anxieties about his anxieties, because why was he getting anxious in the first place? It shouldn't have mattered until he thought about how long Francis and Antonio knew each other, how much they shared. They wouldn't even allow Gilbert in the garden after he pulled up the wrong 'weeds'. Francis nearly cried. Snorting, Gilbert checked his phone and decided he should head back. The sun would set soon and he didn't want to miss dinner.

"You're late!" Francis called the second Gilbert walked in the door. "I was going to start without you." After kicking off his shoes, Gilbert followed the smell of food. Antonio sat at the table already, using the stool as his footrest and Francis' phone to play a game. Gilbert raised an eyebrow in surprise, but a thrill of happiness went through him anyway. For the first time in a week, they all gathered for dinner. After all, it wasn't like they dated and the honeymoon phase long since ended. They didn't need to act like a family and Gilbert wondered why he kept forgetting that.

"Gil's here too?" Antonio asked when he put down the phone. He went to fetch a bowl of food and Gilbert followed him to the stove. Soup—thick and creamy—sat in a large pot. Gilbert rolled his eyes even as he smiled and they all sat.

"Shouldn't it be you we're surprised to see?" he asked. It didn't help that Antonio procured a second job at a flower shop, even if he worked almost no hours there. Antonio shrugged back.

"There, there," Francis said with a pat to the brunette's hand. "He's just really happy to see you." He slid eyes over to Gilbert who dropped his gaze and grumbled. He couldn't deny what Francis said.

After that, they fell into silence. The soup tasted good, leaving little room for talk besides a few naggings at this or that. Only when they scraped the last bits of liquid from their bowls did the silence break again. "So, I'm going home for Thanksgiving," Francis started. Antonio and Gilbert stopped to stare at him. The holiday sat a week away at that point and they startled at the thought of it. Gilbert couldn't help but pout for two reasons. The American holiday meant nothing to him, but he recognized the tendency to go home, something he couldn't do. And second, Francis would leave them. He _could_ go somewhere after all. The one who wore a worse expression though was Antonio. A Thanksgiving wasn't Thanksgiving without family and after all this time, he had yet to talk with or smooth anything over with his.

Francis looked between his friends, noticing the unexpected downcast expressions. Did he sound callous? He grabbed both of his friend's hands and made a snap decision. "Do you two want to come with me?" His mom did ask him multiple times to bring a girlfriend over for the holiday. Always the 'more the merrier' type of family, he upset them by never indulging that. This wasn't _quite_ bringing a girlfriend home, but he didn't think his mom would mind. She always cooked too much food from the start, as if expecting ten extra people to show up out of the blue.

Gilbert and Antonio shared a look, then turned to Francis. "Is that really okay?" Gilbert asked. He didn't think Thanksgiving worked that way, but other than knowing everyone vacated the dorms and left him eating strange food alone in the cafeteria last year, he didn't know anything. Americans and their weird holidays. Antonio looked just as surprised and more than a little hopeful. He wouldn't look away from Francis' eyes, as if looking for signs of deceit. If anyone could find some, it'd be him. Even if people overlooked Antonio, he could spot every detail about everyone.

"You're just making this up on the spot. Don't offer if you can't deliver," he huffed with his arms crossed. The way he narrowed his eyes said so much more though. Whenever he showed unhappiness to this degree, they needed to be real careful with their answers. Francis' face twisted as he pulled out his phone.

"Alright already! Don't make me out to be the bad guy!" he complained. "I'll just call home and ask. Believe me, my family would _love _to meet my friends." Which would probably turn more uncomfortable than he'd like. He just hoped no one decided to interview these two idiots about how close they were because Antonio would surely tell it flat out. That would be interesting. Francis wondered if his family would even care. About being a player? Definitely. About his choice in friends and partners? That he didn't know. The other two stared at him as his phone dialed.

"Hello? Mama…ah yes, I'm sorry I don't call more often. I love you. Yes…" He winced and Gilbert snickered behind his hand. They could all imagine the sort of one-sided conversation confronting Francis. "Hey, can I bring some friends home for thanksgiving? They can't be with their family and I'd hate to leave them alone. No mama, not a girl…just friends." Francis bit his lip as he tried to force a smile on his face. His mother always told him you could hear a smile over the phone so best wear one at all times. Just friends. Oh yes, _just _friends.

Another minute of one-sided chatter left Francis pulling his hair out of its tie one strand at a time. "Actually mama, I'm eating dinner now. Can I call you back later?" he finally cut in with his fingers crossed. Only then did he get a chance to end his call with a loud sigh. "Totally not calling her back. I hope you like stuffing like…a lot. I told you it would be fine. Though she still thinks I'm bringing home a girlfriend." He rolled his eyes and was about to go back for seconds of soup when Antonio stretched across the table and threw his arms around Francis.

"Thank you so much!"

"Ah?!" Francis yelped as the table shifted dangerously and Antonio just about choked him. Gilbert stabilized the table with a dirty look as soup sloshed. "Would you stop doing things like that?!" Francis complained as he pried the other's arms off of him. He gathered his bowl and tutted all the way to the pot. "It's what friends do."

"You know you do have a girlfriend if your parents want to meet one so bad," Gilbert stated. Those two still dated, but Francis only hummed in response. Alissa turned into a sore topic as of late, Francis always electing not to explain anything. Which was weird enough behavior for him. The expression he made now looked even weirder. His entire mood seemed to darken and his eyes lost their life, like the eyes of a trapped man. And yet he never said anything bad about her. He still acted totally hung up on Alissa and even with eyes like that, his lips pulled up in a faint smile, not the least bit forced.

"Does anyone else want more soup? There's about one bowl left in here. Want to split it?" Francis dodged. Gilbert frowned and opened his mouth to comment.

Antonio stomped on his foot and smiled bright as ever at Francis' back. "That sounds great. I'll bring the bowls." He shot Gilbert a look and mouthed to him, 'Don't pry.' Gilbert hunkered down in his chair, glowering at both his friends. Just because Antonio didn't like to get involved didn't mean Gilbert should stay his mouth too. Something was going on in Francis' private life and he wanted to know it. Maybe not now, but he would pry. He felt as if he deserved to know.

They finished their dinner in silence and went their separate ways as they often did. Gilbert and Antonio sat in the living room watching bad tv and Francis went to work on a paper. Gilbert ended staying up until three finishing homework he forgot to do and he never got his chance to converse.

xXx

By Wednesday, the three friends finished finalizing their plan. Living in the same city as Francis' family meant they didn't have to travel for long, so they decided to leave early the next morning and spend the first half of the day cooking. They'd then stay the weekend at his posh house because 'Francis' mom missed her baby boy'. This in particular made Francis cringe. All three of them went to sleep excited though.

"Has anyone seen my toothbrush?" Francis called out at seven in the morning. "Or my face cream?" He riffled through the cabinets, wondering how all the normally easy to find things could could turn twice as elusive with three hurried people trying to pack.

"I thought I saw Antonio with it," Gilbert said from the doorway, wondering why Francis didn't seem to find that strange. Antonio probably grabbed half of everything in the bathroom and shoved them in his bag along with useless things, but he would still forget to bring any clean underwear. This wasn't the first time Francis traveled with him, so he expected it.

"That brat…" Francis muttered with a roll of his eyes. A series of cheeps halted the conversation as a yellow blur shifted in Gilbert's hair. Francis' eyes went wide. "…You know there's a bird on your head right?" Gilbird flittered a bit before settling into its nest again. So that's why his hair always looked so unruly. Francis covered his mouth to fight back a laugh because really, how could a person be cuter?

"Huh? Don't wake Gilbird up. He's very tired," Gilbert demanded like a mother. Francis just gaped as Gilbert made 'gimmie' motions with his hand. "And pass me my shampoo while you're at it." He carried a bag under one arm which already looking rather full despite the decent size of it.

Francis stared for another few seconds before he complied. "The weird smelling stuff right?" he asked as he passed it over.

"Yep. Better smelly than your five hair products," Gilbert snickered as he set his toiletries in the side zipper. Francis may have understood Antonio, but Gilbert's packing habits were a new and interesting territory to explore. His bag looked organized, but what all did he pack in that big thing? Francis pouted and gestured to his things gathered on the counter.

"There are only three and one is for after-shower use!" As if that made it so much less pretentious. "Tell Toni if he packed weird things again, I'm not helping him out. I'm not lending him money either," Francis made sure to tack on. Best to clarify the little detail or Antonio would assume he could take the easy way out. Though the devilish bastard would just beg his mom and win anyway. Gilbert tilted his head to the side, silent for once. After a second, he hummed and dragged his bag away, only mumbling a half-hearted okay back. Francis stared after him. _What got into him?_ Gilbert didn't seem like himself lately and Francis thought _he_ was the one with issues. Hopefully Thanksgiving would turn out like the vacation they planned, not the family disaster he expected in the back of his mind. It looked like they might need this break.

Somehow the three of them all got into Francis' car only eight minutes after their planned departure time and started what should have been a twenty minute drive. Holiday traffic nearly doubled the time, but they made it to the home without anyone freaking out—namely Francis or his mom. Gilbert slept the entire way and Francis shook his shoulder when he parked. Antonio already traipsed across the lawn, ignorant of the cobblestone walk, the same old brown knapsack he carried when he moved in slung over his shoulder. "Well, it's only a little big," Gilbert commented.

He imagined he could fit his aunt and uncle's house inside this one two times over. Sure they didn't have much money at the start, but it had been a humble home in a good way, not too crowded even after Gilbert and Ludwig moved in so unexpectedly. He couldn't picture this mansion-like home in any German city. Francis swept past them and knocked on the door before throwing it open. Antonio followed as if he belonged in the home as much as the older male. And Gilbert, his bag feeling awkward and heavy in his hand, trailed behind.

"Francis dear!" a curvaceous woman called out before dragging the taller Francis into her arms. "You don't come home often enough! You'll have to tell me every detail of your life after lunch!" She wore younger fashion and her wrinkles like a flattering accessory. Her eyes shone a deep chocolate color, but the blonde waves wrapped behind her head matched her son's.

"Mama…" Francis whined. He wore a 'kill me now' sort of expression before he managed to push his mother away. "You're embarrassing me in front of my friends!"

"Ah, Antonio! It's been so many years. My how you've grown," the woman exclaimed as she whirled away. "You know you're always welcome here." Antonio thanked her as he returned the hug, clearly familiar with the woman. Gilbert shifted with even more discomfort before she turned her attention to him. "And who's this? You've brought a new friend. Are you the third one living with my son?"

Gilbert held out a hand and introduced himself. "Yes, that's me. We met last year." He had to remind himself to speak in English because his nerves pulled so tight. "Thank you for inviting us to this this…uh, thanksgiving?" he hesitated as he glanced at the others, trying to make sure he got the holiday's name right.

"Oh! That accent. Where are you from dear?" His mom asked and Gilbert furrowed his brow before answering.

"…Germany. I lived most of my life in Potsdam and before that, Havelberg." He didn't know what words to say. Normally he just left off at Germany, but Francis' mom sounded like she wanted details.

"Is that so?" The woman placed one hand on Gilbert's back and started to guide him out of the room. "Why don't you tell me all about it." Gilbert glanced back at Francis, eyes wide and desperate. Why did he feel like he was being kidnapped? The other two just let him be dragged away though with farewell waves.

"So," Francis started when he stood alone with Antonio again. "Should we go to my room and put away our things? Gilbert can have the guest room. He should like that assuming she doesn't question him to death." Both grinned and headed for the stairs. They certainly weren't going to get in the way of the head of this house and her ability to pull details out the tightest lips. Better Gilbert than them.

The peaceful time didn't last long though. Everyone crammed into the kitchen, guests and all. Granted, the kitchen was big and there were only five of them. It still turned cooking into a mad scrabble as they raced to finish by noon. Apparently this family did not believe in preparing the meal for others. No, if you wanted to eat, you cooked. Antonio smiled all too happily about this and Gilbert flailed behind, not even familiar with the traditional Thanksgiving dishes. It didn't surprise him at all when they finished exactly on time. His own family would look on with pride at the punctual display, and dizziness at the amount of food.

They sat at a long table with an orange, leafy centerpiece and doily in the middle. The food platters took up so much space they could barely set down their individual plates and the full set of rose emblemed silverware. Everything about the home and Francis' family reeked of wealth and class, but as Francis once explained, the wealth came by them in his father's generation. The family lacked the aristocratic air of one from old money and perhaps that made them seem even more spoiled. Still, on a day like this with a candle in the center of the table and hands held as they said grace—the only time of the year they'd ever hear Francis say it—the home felt cozy. Francis thanked his judgement in bringing his friend's along because it felt that much more like family. If he wasn't getting lethargic off of turkey and stuffing, he might analyze that emotion more.

"So Francis darling, when are you going to get a girlfriend?" his mom started halfway through lunch. Francis choked on a giblet, his eyes going wide. A silence dropped down over the room with it's displays of china against the wall and academic period art on the wall. Francis glanced over at his friends, then at his mom and the pale blue eyes of his father.

"Actually, I have one. Her name is Alissa." He didn't feel any desire to elaborate. So much for a peaceful family dinner, but Francis didn't really expect less.

Brown eyes went wide as his mother's face broke out in a smile. "Excellent! But why didn't you bring her to meet us? Your friends are lovely, but you're twenty-five." She gasped suddenly before her eyes narrowed. "She's not of ill repute is she?"

"Mama!" Francis complained. "It's not like that. We've only been dating a few months and she has her own family." And he wouldn't want to bring her into this anyway. Even if he was head over heels in love and happy. And happy? He lowered his eyes. No, he just didn't want to subject anyone to his family. He could subject his friends because they didn't need to think highly of him. He'd already ruined that image long ago. A girlfriend was something he needed to lie to.

His mom hummed to herself as if she didn't believe Francis, so she turned to Gilbert next, making the young man jump. He already had enough of that woman to last him a lifetime and he did not like all these eyes on him. "Is it true? If it's Francis or Antonio, they'll lie just to shut me up. How many years has that happened? But you're the honorable friend, I can tell. You wouldn't lie to me." Her voice pitched lower, her eyes unblinking. It wasn't a question. The tone said that, without a doubt, Gilbert would not lie to her. He swallowed down a too big gulp of tea and tried and failed to meet her eye.

"I-it's true. I've definitely seen her. A…very proper girl…" Oh god, he had no idea what to say. He felt he might die from eating a meal with Francis' family. If Thanksgiving was like this, he felt glad Germany didn't have anything quite like it. It took another few seconds before the attention finally turned away from him. "I think it's time for dessert!" Francis' mom exclaimed. Mr. Bonnefoy sawed off a bite of meat with a thunk of knife on ceramic plate.

"I'll go get it!" Antonio answered. He skipped over to where the pies sat on the granite counter top and Gilbert jumped to his feet after him, announcing that he would help. As they left, they heard Francis' interrogation continue, this time from his father. "How are your grades, son…?" Anything more than that, they couldn't hear. Once alone in the kitchen, Gilbert let his stressed face show. Antonio patted him on the back.

"Isn't it wonderful? It's like free tv! You should have seen them his senior year of high school. I thought Francis would pop under their expectations, like a frog when you put it in the microwave."

"You're just as bad as they are…" Gilbert grumbled. "And a frog? Is that a real saying or something you made up?" He might need a drink to live through an entire weekend of this. Antonio just smiled as he grabbed the pumpkin, leaving the pecan for Gilbert.

As they brought out the pies, he wondered if Francis knew how much fun Antonio got at his expense. The relieved smile at their return said not. Somehow they survived dinner though without being forced to reveal all of their secrets, which was a game in itself, one only Antonio seemed suited for. By the time the parents released them to play by themselves, Francis and Gilbert looked ready to collapse. Antonio went to fetch some sodas while the other two lay like two dead things on Francis' bed.

Gilbert reached over to pat the older man's back. "I understand why you don't like to come home," he said with solemn nod. "You really brought us because you're afraid to be alone with them didn't you?"

Francis' face twisted. "…It did cross my mind. But you heard them! If they knew the half of it, they'd tear me to pieces!" He groaned into his hands. His family had no idea what a 'good' boy they raised. He almost regretted his decisions, but this tended to happen when he came home. The feeling always passed a week after getting away from them. He figured the same would happen after this weekend too. Francis buried his face in the comforter and very nearly screamed. Only when his phone buzzed did he lift his head. When he clicked on the message, Gilbert leaned over to read the screen.

_Alissa. _She just sent a little 'Happy Thanksgiving' note with a few smilies, but Gilbert forced down a sneer. He met her once and yet he hated her. The expression on Francis' face hesitated somewhere between weary and smiling. Gilbert watched it droop more before Francis closed his phone again without responding to the message. No more, no more of this keeping quiet. "Why didn't you bring her home? I mean, do you even like that girl?" Gilbert asked.

Francis made a face, but his look of warning didn't make Gilbert blink. "Don't want my parents prying," he finally answered. That much should have been obvious after dinner. He tilted his head, giving Gilbert an odd look. It didn't make sense that he asked what he did. "Of course I like her. I wouldn't be with a single person for this long if I didn't. You should know that."

Gilbert wondered if that counted for him and Antonio as well. Their casual relationship lasted for just as long and their friendship even longer. What kind of like did they have? Gilbert shook his thoughts away. This wasn't the time for that and a part of him thought no time would be. He didn't want to get involved with people close to him because of this in the first place. His thoughts always turned weird. "Maybe I should rephrase. Are you happy?" He knew better than most that you could love someone and not be the least bit happy with them.

Francis didn't respond immediately. When he did though, it was with a loud sigh. "Well, isn't that the question?" he asked as he dragged a hand through his hair. "I don't even know anymore. Happy or not. I think it's a little more complicated than that." He didn't know the answer to that question any more than Gilbert did. "It's not like I haven't considered breaking up with her before. I shouldn't be hung up since I don't know a thing about her after all this time, but when she smiles, I can't look away from her eyes. Way a while ago, she asked if we were breaking up because I wouldn't pick her over you guys."

Gilbert looked at him in surprise. He sat cross-legged, giving Francis all of his attention as he chewed on his bottom lip. "Really? Then why didn't you?" Gilbert felt strangely happy when he heard that and he didn't know who he felt happy for. Him or Francis? No, no, he just felt concerned for Francis and he would push today until he knew his friend was alright.

The distinct and heavy look in Francis' eyes said more than enough. "Because she didn't want to. She said she wouldn't let me go and she hasn't. Even though I'm not against us, it still feels like she's woven some kind of spell. It makes me love her no matter if I like her or not. She's the person of my dreams. I don't think I can walk away until she tells me to," he whispered in a voice too tiny for the big room. Francis sat with his eyes locked on a painting by Monet, the calming sweep of the bridge doing nothing for him right then. The idea of talking about Alissa always made him want to run, especially when Gilbert stared like he just proclaimed she threatened to kill him.

"W-what the hell?" Gilbert gaped. Francis slid his eyes over to his friend, catching the wide-eyed look. He didn't quite understand. Suddenly Gilbert surged toward him and grabbed his shirt collar. "Break up with her! Do it now!" He shook Francis as he yelled and the older man couldn't even stutter out a response. "That's not a healthy relationship at all! That's practically abuse!"

"W-wha-? Why?" Gilbert never acted this irrational. "She's not doing anything to me. Why are you so angry?!" Francis grasped Gilbert's hands and managed to pry them away. Gilbert didn't seem to notice. He wore a look on his face that made something inside Francis snap. It was wrong, false, and so sickening to see someone look at him with horror and pity and…understanding? Francis didn't even know. This was all getting weird and it made him _angry. _Angry like he'd never been at Gilbert before. "You're just jealous so shut it, Gilbert. I love him and even if you beg me, who my heart belongs to isn't going to change!"

Gilbert's eyes went wide and he jerked away. For half a minute, they didn't say anything. They didn't know what to say. Francis wanted to take his words back, but Gilbert already looked like Francis slapped him. Just as he was about to leave, the door swung open.

"I hope orange is okay!" Antonio grinned as he bounced onto the bed. He snuggled into the gap between his friends, wrapping one arms around each of them. When Francis and Gilbert took the sodas he handed over without a word, he glanced between his friend's faces in confusion. "Eh, is something wrong?" he asked. Frowning, he tried to pull them even closer together. They let him, but Antonio couldn't shake the feeling that he missed something even when they assured him that they were just tired. Antonio huffed. He wasn't stupid, but he couldn't force them to talk either. Instead, the three of them just lay together in a haphazard mess, sipping orange soda like they didn't notice Francis and Gilbert not touching.

The day passed in a daze after that. Gilbert found himself alone in a neat and artificial room with not much more than a bed and table, organized as only things no one ever used could be. He lay on the bed, hearing an empty silence. Antonio and Francis got to stay together like usual and he got to be alone. If he knew they planned it this way, he would have objected. But after their fight, Gilbert only felt thankful. _I think I__'__m getting weird. _He pressed an arm over his eyes. He couldn't block out his thoughts though, even if he didn't know what they tried to tell him. Francis called him jealous. Was that the crazed, panicked thing inside of him? He didn't call Francis out because of jealousy, but what if he was?

Gilbert pulled the panda out of his bag and squished the fat animal between his arms. "I knew I was right to bring you," he whispered to the worn black ears. Ever since the day his aunt bought the panda for him, he kept it close. At age eight, he understood and didn't understand why his mom couldn't hug him anymore. Gilbert still remembered when his aunt bought the panda, then almost as big as him. She told him to hug it whenever he felt lonely and that would be like hugging mommy. The panda always felt warm and when he put its arms around him, he could believe his mother returned the hug. Now twenty-two, he still felt the kinship with his panda, even knowing it would never hug him back.

"What should I do? I feel even more alone now than before I met them," he asked the panda. As always, the animal said nothing back. It struck Gilbert so clearly now that he would always be the odd one out. He kidded himself thinking three people could be together happily. This was just a causal thing and it already felt strained. He'd been thinking it for most of the month already. Now he could admit it to himself. A three-way just couldn't work. _Maybe I should end things with them before I fall too far to save my heart._ Gilbert groaned. Who was he kidding? He got on Francis' case, but he was just as caught up in a web no good for him. Maybe he just had a talent with finding relationships like that. Maybe his head and heart went looking for it. Gilbert forced back a sniffle as he curled on top of the too perfect sheets. Without a doubt, he couldn't pull away from Francis and Antonio even if he tried.


	13. Chapter 13

"Gilbert, you're too quiet. It's scaring us," Francis started after Antonio's tenth poke to his back, each one harder than the last. He'd get bruises if he didn't give the man what he wanted. Neither explained to Antonio what happened when he left the room and he wanted the story. He'd settle for fixing this odd behavior of Gilbert's though. Since then, Gilbert pulled away and even Francis didn't expect this. Antonio insisted Francis get through to him as if this forced them to make up after whatever type of fight they had, or at least that's what Francis figured his unspoken words meant. And really, he did try to catch Gilbert before he disappeared into his room. "I know my parents traumatized you and all, but we're home now and you're never this quiet." Francis sighed.

Gilbert glanced back at him and went into his room anyway. "It's nothing. You know I'm not angry at you or anything. I'm sorry I said that stuff about you and Alissa, so you don't have to keep hovering. That's what you want to hear right?" he asked without any energy. The rest of the weekend scarred all of them except for Antonio who still grinned as much as usual. It irritated Gilbert. They got home late yesterday, having decided that staying through Sunday might kill them. Francis made some excuse about homework and here they were, Sunday morning with none of them even thinking about homework. Gilbert just felt weary. He grabbed his phone and walked out of his room again.

Francis and Antonio traded looks. Since when did Gilbert say things like that? Francis didn't feel angry anymore, just bothered over at least five different things. It took him until the night after their fight to realize he said loved _him_, not her. What the hell was that?

Gilbert swept past them, not noticing or just not caring about the eyes boring into him. "That's fine and all, Gil, but can we talk?" Francis asked as he grabbed the man's arm. Gilbert finally turned back to meet his eyes. A second later, he dropped his gaze and pulled his arm free.

"Sorry, I've got lunch plans with someone." Gilbert checked the time on his phone. If he left now, he'd arrive fifteen minutes early, but he needed to get out of here before one of his friends made him start spilling secrets. No matter what, he couldn't let them ruin this plan. Just this one stupid plan he hatched in the insufferable silence of the car ride back. Francis' pleading eyes and Antonio's warm smile would break his resolve. Not today though. Gilbert squared his shoulders and stalked to the door. "Goodbye."

"Gil!" Francis called after him, but the door slammed in his face. He turned to see Antonio glaring at him with arms crossed. "What? You're not going to say this is my fault are you?" he asked, but his irritation sounded weak. Antonio didn't say anything and instead sat on the couch. Francis plopped down next to him, immediately falling over to rest against his friend's chest. "I think I screwed up."

"Sounds like a smart conclusion. Hey, hey…don't use me to cry on. I have to leave for work in thirty minutes," Antonio pouted as he tugged a strand of blonde hair. In this light, it looked almost golden, but he preferred the duller, wheat color he more often saw. It looked natural and less perfect in the wonderful way Francis had. Antonio smoothed out the waves as he dropped his head back to stare at the ceiling. "I told Gilbert not to bring her up. I don't want you two to fight."

For a minute, Francis lay there in silence. He didn't usually cuddle up against someone for comfort like this. He preferred to be the comforter so he thanked Antonio for just sitting here like this, not doing a thing. "There comes a point where it's better to fight though. You can't just force peace where it isn't," he muttered. Gilbert did the right thing speaking up. It left Francis in knots, but he found himself questioning things now. "He said my relationship with her is unhealthy, even abusive. I don't get that, but part way through…I forgot we were talking about her." He didn't need to explain who he confused Alissa for. "Gilbert had this weird expression and…I don't know. I just got angry and called him jealous."

Antonio choked, dislodging Francis before he got his surprise under control. "I see. Well, that wasn't very nice of you," he pointed out as if both of them didn't know that already. Francis glared out of the corner of his eye. "This is all getting a little too complicated for me. Can I have a rain check on this conversation?" He started to get up, but Francis' arms captured him and pulled him back onto the couch. "Oh, well…I guess not. You should be telling Gil this, not me, though."

Francis sighed. "He keeps running away. Besides, I need to figure this all out first. I still don't know how I feel about what he said." He never should have resisted his nature and just gone to his friends the second things started going sour. Just talking like this already helped. "And I really don't think my family helped. I don't know why you like them so much."

"Really? They're entertaining, but they're real nice too. Your mom liked Gilbert a lot. Always watching over you like that, I'm totally jealous. Besides, they've always been kind to me even when no one else was," Antonio sighed. They hadn't so much as hesitated to welcome him into their home whenever he tagged along. The structure and the rules there felt so different and relaxing.

Francis chuckled. "I know, but I prefer your home." He glanced over at Antonio in case he stepped on any toes. The younger man wagged a hand, signaling him to continue. "There's just so much! People and noise and animals. There's always some kid running around without their pants on or a cat stealing creme brûlée, or…" Antonio's laughter drowned out the rest of his list as he started slapping Francis' leg in excitement.

"Wait, I remember that! You were baking all day and you turned away for one second. Next thing we know, Oscar's on the counter lapping up dessert!" Antonio exclaimed. He remembered laughing so hard at that. "The cats ate better that day than we did! They really went to town on it and we had to eat store bought ice cream. God, when was that? We were still in high school and you spent a couple weeks at the farm. You needed to get away because…" He trailed off as his face turned serious. "Because you figured out you could never get Arthur to stop hating you or stop yourself from loving him. You skipped out on the birthday party your parents planned and just showed up at my place out of the blue. That was a really nice time…" When did it get so complicated between them? Maybe the day Gilbert stepped into their lives but Francis might be right. They did need to break a few eggshells to change and grow.

Francis shook his head, still chuckling with amusement. "Yeah, it was really nice. I could be free there when I so desperately needed to be." His laughter died off and left him staring at Antonio with a matching serious expression. "Is Gilbert right? Am I hurting myself holding onto Alissa? Do I really not like her and just Arthur…because I really thought I moved on this time." Antonio tried to protest sharing his opinion like he always did, but Francis snapped back at him. "I'm serious. You need to tell me."

"You won't get mad?" Francis stared at him unblinking. "Ah, I like Alissa. She's smart and independent," Antonio said much to Francis' surprise, hope, and fear. Antonio wasn't done though. "I like her, but I don't like her with you. Gilbert is right."

xXx

Gilbert hopped from foot to foot in the outdoor area of the coffee shop. Though he shoved his hands in his pockets, it didn't keep them still. He felt a shiver run along his body despite the warm sunshine. Five minutes after the arranged meeting time, he decided to leave. He shouldn't be doing this, no he definitely should, or he shouldn't, or…

"Why did you call me out here?" a female voice called out. Too late. Gilbert turned to see Alissa stalking toward him. He forced a smile onto his face and waved. "Should we get a seat?" she asked, not sure what sort of conversation he planned. Gilbert shook his head sharp to the left and right. He kept his hands in his pockets and shuffled to a less occupied corner of the cafe. She followed after one second of hesitation.

"I'm only here to tell you one thing." Gilbert dragged in a deep breath and just said what he needed to even if he got hurt by it in the end. "Francis doesn't love you. He never did so just ditch him already."

Five seconds of tense silence passed. "_Excuse me?_" Alissa snapped. Her shoulders shook, but she stayed still. Gilbert lifted one corner of his mouth in a sneer and avoided her eye. "Exactly how should you know what he feels. Is this some kind of pathetic attempt to get rid of the competition? I figured out a long time ago that you three are sexually involved. I'm not an idiot." She rolled her eyes as she pulled to her full height. Despite being shorter, she managed to look down on Gilbert and squash him into the pavement. "Did you go and fall in love with him even though you're just leftover trash? News flash, _I__'__m _the one he's in love with!"

Gilbert bristled. His fists clenched and he took a step toward her with his red eyes flashing. For her credit, Alissa did no more than lower her eyes. Gilbert pointed a finger at her chest because no matter how angry he got, he wouldn't hit a girl. Not even her. "You're the one who doesn't know shit, dumb bitch!" he snapped. Alissa stammered, but he continued on, not the least bit done. "Blonde hair and green eyes, you're just a replacement for the man he's loved longer than he's known you _or_ me. Every time he says he loves you, he's saying it to him. Because Francis is just as infatuated with Arthur as ten years ago and he said as much himself. So really, you were never in his life at all!" Gilbert nearly snarled the last of his speech. Anger reddened his face and made his words tumble out louder and each more vicious than the last. He couldn't stop himself once he let those emotions loose.

Alissa's mouth hung open as she seethed, turning as red as her lipstick. Her wide green eyes shone with shock, but disbelief and anger quickly hid the hurt. "Have you no shame?!" she stuttered in a shrill screech. Her hand flashed and before Gilbert could react, she slapped him full across the face. He just turned his head with it, his expression blank. "Do your lies know no end!?" She wouldn't believe this crap, absolutely refused to believe a delinquent friend with a party-goer reputation like him. Gilbert pulled something out of his pocket and flicked it at her.

"Arthur Kirkland," he said as she caught the photo. From it stared a young man who could have been her brother if not for the dense eyebrows and severe expression, matched with a stiff collared shirt and plaid sweater vest, all dull in color except for his wide, brilliant green eyes. "Francis keeps the photo behind his credit cards." Gilbert would get hit for sure if Francis knew he took it. _What the hell am I thinking. That__'__s what he__'__s going to hit me for?_

He sighed as he felt his anger start to lessen. Gilbert did this for Francis and he knew he trod on hearts, but he couldn't stand this anymore. He needed Alissa to know what she did to him. As much as he wanted to hate her like some kind of villain with intent, he knew her type—a black widow who wrapped men up in spells without noticing it for a second. He'd make sure she knew this time so it never happened again.

"This isn't about your love or mine. I just care about him and I see he's hurting. The only way he'll ever let go is if you break up with him. You don't even know what kind of spell you've got him under, what you can do to a man's heart, twisting it all up in knots over nothing. I don't care if you think I'm selfish or want him for myself," Gilbert explained. He had no intention of pursuing a relationship with the other man despite how close they grew. "He can be happy with someone else though." Maybe Antonio even. Just not him, never him.

"I don't care if you're right or not," Alissa whispered, her tone quiet as the shock numbed her. She roused herself to put a little bite back into her voice, but her face stayed lax. "Do you think you have to the right to decide what makes him happy? Did you even ask him if that's what he wanted?" She pulled off the charm bracelet she wore and slapped it into his hand. "But I can see I'm not welcome in your lives anymore. You can give him back his love and I hope he chokes on it! If it were me though, I'd try to hang on if I cared like that, not pair him off with someone else because it's a 'better idea'. But I guess I just don't love Francis enough," came her snide reply. "Well, it was fun." Alissa whirled on her heel and stalked away without a wave or goodbye.

Gilbert stared down at the bracelet with hearts and roses stuck along the silver band. _If I didn__'__t love myself so much, I__'__d definitely hate me now._

xXx

Gilbert stomped through their home and found Francis in the kitchen, searching through drawers. Without looking up, he called to Gilbert. "I can't find that rubber spatula. You know, the green one I like. You're the one who always puts the dishes away in the wrong place." Gilbert didn't respond, though he found Francis' observation completely false. He only screwed the dishes up, like, ten times. That didn't even phase him though. Gilbert walked into the kitchen, his steps slow and even like a robot. "Gilbert?" Francis finally turned at the lack of a response. "Hey if you're upset about earlier then I won't make you ta-"

"Here," Gilbert said. He dropped the bracelet into Francis' hand. "Since you couldn't break up with your girl, I did it for you." Francis stared at him and Gilbert stood there, preparing himself for the onslaught. The silence suffocated him, but he just built a wall around himself like he was so used to doing. Finally, Francis looked down at the bracelet.

"You did…what?" Francis thought he heard wrong. He really, really did. "What the hell did you do, Gilbert?! What did you say to Alissa? I can't…even…what? Why?!" Gilbert didn't move from his spot a foot away and Francis stared at him, wide-eyed and lost. He was starting to believe and accept Gilbert's opinion, but then out of the blue, without saying anything? How…how could Gilbert do something so rash? It came too quick for Francis to accept that his dream just crashed to pieces. Choking on emotion, his voice cracked. "She broke up with me?"

Gilbert turned away. He could take the anger, but not the broken sound in Francis' voice. "I didn't have a choice. She needed to know the truth about you…and Arthur. You're free now. You don't have to love her anymore." Francis didn't have to love anyone. He could pick now. But Francis just looked at him with his mouth hanging open as hurt twisted his face. He threw the bracelet to the floor.

"And you just decided this on your own? I thought you had a heart, but here you are, meddling in who I can love or not! _God!_" Francis staggered back, shoving both hands through his hair. "I was listening to you, but then this?! I'm the only one who should be allowed to end things! I'm the only one who can say who I'm in love with!" It wasn't even about Alissa anymore. Gilbert had to go and bring Arthur into this. He didn't understand what Francis felt at all or the state of confusion his mind already tumbled in before this. Francis felt muddled…and betrayed. The hurt made him want to lash out. Gilbert thought he couldn't change. He did this all because of _Arthur_. And Francis had no idea why that burned him so much, as if Arthur would always hang over his head. As if this had nothing to do with Gilbert. But Francis doubted that.

The emotionless front Gilbert put up came tumbling down when Francis focused on him. He slapped away Francis' hand when he reached out. "Oh, so you know what love is now? Listening to me?" He laughed, the sound coming out harsh and cruel. "Give me a break. You can honestly say you were going to break up with that chick? You don't know shit about what you're saying!" Gilbert snarled. Francis' sagging shoulders jumped up as he stiffened. Blue eyes now glared at Gilbert.

"Since when were you an expert on love?!" Francis snapped back. "The last time I checked, that was my specialty! You've never been in love like I have, never as long as me!" All the time Francis spent today thinking about putting Alissa and Arthur behind him evaporated. If Gilbert wanted to push him, then it was about time he learned that Francis could push back.

Gilbert threw back his head and laughed. He gained the bad habit long ago. When in danger, bite harder, throw up a higher wall. It didn't matter if the danger came from outside or his own emotions. "You think I haven't been in love before? If I've learned one thing, it's that love isn't something that hurts you and it isn't something you have to lie about yourself for. Haven't you noticed that the only people you don't lie to are us?" Gilbert let out a frustrated sigh. Whatever script he came into the conversation with already ran out. Words just started flowing before his brain could analyze them.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Francis asked, taken aback. He heard all that Gilbert said, but the last bit snagged him. He stood there with his brow furrowed, still angry, but with something sparking in his mind. "What the hell, you really are jealous!"

Before Gilbert could even consider his answer, he started saying it. "Yes, you stupid idiot! I'm fucking jealous and I'm bothered by your dumb ass definition of love. Figure out already that there are people here who will actually love you for who you are!" His breath came out in ragged gasps. These he heard in the echo of silence his words brought. Why did it get so silent?

"Love?" Francis echoed. All of the anger in the room froze. He watched Gilbert's face shift from passion to a breathless shock, one of his fists still held mid-wave. Realization dawned on Francis, but for some reason, he couldn't act. His heart just stuttered against his ribs. Gilbert staggered back with his eyes wide. He opened his mouth multiple times, but even his normal squeak didn't come out. Like he couldn't breathe, his face twisted and then Gilbert tore out of the room. The front door slammed behind and Francis stayed rooted to the kitchen floor.

Gilbert kept running until he couldn't run anymore. At some corner he didn't recognize, he collapsed against a shop wall. The thundering of his heart joined the breath he never quite caught since his shock. A sudden lurch in his stomach had him clasping a hand over his mouth, both the exertion and his realization sickening him._ I just about confessed my love before I even knew I__'__d fallen._ Unable to stop the dizziness, Gilbert slid to the stained concrete. The air of this city made it hard to breath. How could a city have air this disgusting and no one care about it? How come he didn't complain about it sooner and just leave? That way he wouldn't be choking back tears on some street corner, god knew how far from home.

_I said I would get away from them before they compromised my heart, but I didn__'__t realize they already had._ How could I let this happen? Gilbert pulled his knees tight to his chest and let himself admit it, finally. "I'm in love. I'm in love with that idiot." A strange giddiness came over him. For the first time in two years, he was in love and it felt wonderful, like he just evaded a deep worry he never let himself admit. He still knew how to love. A second later, his happiness crashed back down again. This would never work. His friends weren't the serious relationship type and Antonio would never let them leave him out. The three of them? All in love with each other? Nothing sounded more disastrous than that. The one who would get his heart handed to him on a platter, minced and sautéed in garlic, would be Gilbert. He already decided that he would step back and let Francis and Antonio fall in love. With his heart like this, all the more reason to.

When Gilbert got himself under control again, he hopped a bus to the beach and walked around until happy couples irked him enough to wander the shops without seeing anything. His stomach growled, but he barely registered that he ate nothing but a taco from some vender today. Despite his body's objection, he didn't feel hungry. Only when the sun kissed the waves did it make him feel sick. He turned around and started walking back. Before he knew it, Gilbert found himself on their doorstep. He couldn't bring himself to go inside though. What if he came face to face with Francis again? He couldn't talk about this yet, or maybe ever, but he couldn't stay out all night either.

Actually, he could. LA never got cold and had plenty of hideouts for the homeless, but immediately after thinking that, Gilbert rejected it. He wasn't low enough to fight some bum for his cardboard box. He could call a friend and ask to stay over, even if he already walked all the way here, but he knew just how few numbers he owned. Because right, he had no friends. He managed to make a few acquaintances from school and football, but no one he could just ring up and demand to stay with. He felt awkward about doing things like that. So where else could he go? It was true, he had nowhere else, but he still couldn't bring himself to walk inside. Gilbert sat on the porch with his chin resting on his knees as he tried to figure out what to do.

Not much time passed before a familiar figure walked down the sidewalk. Gilbert watched with a blank expression as Antonio approached and then stopped in front of him. For a minute, Antonio just observed. Then he sighed and summarized everything in one question. "You told her didn't you?" Gilbert didn't have to answer. He blinked once then looked up at his friend with utterly hopeless eyes.

Antonio's heart squeezed, killing his planned lecture. Gilbert didn't move so he crouched on the sidewalk and tilted his head. Guessing that he would elaborate with time, Antonio just waited. After another minute, the answer came. "Yeah, I told her and she dumped Francis. I told him that and…and Toni…I think I might have accidentally confessed to him." Gilbert choked on his last words. He wanted to scream all over again, but he already ran over his emotional limit for the day. Even changing his expression felt like too much effort.

"Confessed?" Antonio echoed as he covered his mouth. His eyes went wider than Gilbert ever saw them and he had big eyes in the first place. Antonio prided himself on predicting his friends, but he must have gotten out of practice because he had no idea about this. Something in Gilbert's wording bothered him though. Accidentally? Did he make a mistake? But then why panic? "Wait, is it true then? Do you love him?" he asked, his voice nearly a whisper now, but still as squeaky. This would change everything. Antonio hated change, but he accepted this one without a hint of resistance.

"Yeah," Gilbert muffled against his knees. He hid his face again, but nothing about his tone sounded happy or liberated. "I'm in love with Francis and I can't even face him right now. I don't know what he'll say." Probably reject him, or even worse, try to give Gilbert a chance. He'd pretend he was in love just to make Gilbert happy, but only hurt him in the end.

Antonio started to notice a trend. It put a damper on his hope. Gilbert only ever said Francis. Was he included in this? Antonio didn't know how to ask. It was a bit presumptuous to demand Gilbert love him too. He was a black and white guy. Antonio thought they were in this together, but was Gilbert capable of _loving _two people at the same time? The funny thing was, if Gilbert gave him the chance, Antonio would return his love. It wasn't just his own selfishness to keep them to himself or the care he felt. If Gilbert wanted it, he felt sure his love could shift into the right kind. Antonio already loved him just like he loved Francis. But romantic love should feel different, probably. Feel like what? "Maybe you should-"

"I'm just going to pretend this didn't happen, okay," Gilbert cut him off. Since he wouldn't lift his head, he missed the serious look pointed his way. "I don't want a relationship, so I guess I'm done playing with you guys. Have fun together. I didn't want to fall in love and I know it can't go anywhere. You guys don't love me, so I won't make this more complicated than it has to be."

Antonio couldn't get a word in. Whenever he tried to speak, Gilbert talked over him. Antonio understood now—he intended to put his love in a box and bury it. He told himself he didn't really feel upset. This is what he wanted wasn't it? For them not to change into something they couldn't handle. Then why did it feel so wrong? "Maybe I could…if you want me-" Antonio found himself struggling over his words more than ever before. Gilbert didn't want Francis _or _him. It took effort to fight back the emotions warring on his face and the desire to attack Gilbert and shove love down his throat. But that wouldn't be very Toni would it? Finally he pulled back and stood. "That's it? Fine…give up. I'm not you, so I won't tell you how to live. Just, are you going to stay out here all night?"

Gilbert felt so wrapped up in his own issues that he forgot who he was with. His eyes shot up to lock with Antonio's. "I'm not-!" Okay, maybe he was giving up. He bit down hard on his lip, drawing blood. Antonio's tone sounded strange with a mix of meekness and bite to it. Gilbert knew he said something wrong, but he didn't know how to take anything back. If he did, none of this would be happening right now. Gilbert wanted to lash out, to somehow act more like himself. He settled for a snappish comment. "I won't go in if I have to see Francis. And I don't care what you think of me. I'm just looking out for number one!" He was really going to hate being alone again.

Antonio huffed at him, but slipped in the door. _Oh my god! _His friends were going to drive him crazy! Just inside the doorway, Antonio grabbed at his hair and danced around to expel the ten million things he wanted to say. The somber aura of the house cooled him down before a minute passed. He breathed out and crept across the room, unable to even call out Francis' name in this silence. It didn't take long to find the older man. He sat in the kitchen, almost right where Gilbert left him. Dinner got abandoned and only the bottle of rum sat on the table. Francis sipped the liquid from his glass and watched Antonio approach with wariness. They stared at each other and Antonio took in Francis' rumpled purple silk shirt, sleeves rolled up above the elbows where they would surely leave wrinkles. His hair tumbled loose around his face in a show of haphazard curls and frizz. He obviously pulled his hand through it too many times. The rum bottle at least didn't look much more empty than Antonio left it. Francis preferred to sip.

"So, Gilbert is in love with you," Antonio broke the silence with. Francis showed no visible signs of reaction.

"Yep," he answered with another sip of his drink. "I really should have seen it sooner. Now it's just so obvious." Francis shook his head. The confession shocked him, but that wasn't even half of it. He just had no idea what to do now. Could he give Gilbert what he wanted? He cared about him so deeply as a friend and as a person, but he didn't feel about him the way he did Arthur. Just like Gilbert said it wasn't fair for Alissa, it wouldn't be fair for him either.

"Don't say that. I didn't see it and I don't think Gilbert did either," Antonio sighed. "Do you love him back?" He at least needed all the facts, then he could figure out his place in this new sort of relationship. Why did their trio have to keep changing? He resisted the urge to sigh and whine and tell his friends off. Someone needed to be responsible here.

Finally, Francis shook his head. "No, I don't think so. Maybe…no." He shook his head again. "Where is he? I need to tell him I just can't right now. My heart's too fucked up." No one would expect anything out of him the same day he was forced to break up with his girlfriend in the midst of trying to let go of an unrequited love he could at least admit needed to go. Right? Francis wanted to be that person for someone besides Arthur. He wanted to be the guy who loved with all his heart and body. That didn't mean the idea didn't terrify him. He had Arthur almost his entire life. How could he live without him?

Antonio pouted and dropped a hand on top of Francis' glass when he made to chug it. "You'll make yourself sick!" Francis grimaced and let Antonio take the glass away to sip at himself. Francis didn't get crazy like his friends when filthy drunk. He just puked himself into misery. "Gilbert is sitting outside. He knows you're not ready, Francis." Antonio had his doubts about that when he stepped inside, but Francis' behavior proved Gilbert right. Their young friend could be very astute when he needed to be even if he was oblivious the other eighty percent of the time. "He doesn't want anything from us anyway." Antonio's voice dropped lower at that, a little hurt.

Francis didn't notice. He could only run the earlier conversation over and over in his head along with details of the past few months that just proved it all right. He slumped backwards in his chair, laughing without mirth. "I just remembered. He said at the start that he didn't want to sleep with friends because something terrible would happen. I guess he was right." Francis took his drink back and let the liquid wash down his throat. He didn't normally care for hard liquor, but to hell with that. He couldn't do anything he'd regret at this point. He already did all of that, but despite what he said, he didn't regret sleeping with Gilbert. These months had been some of the most wonderful of his life. "Oh, what the hell," he groaned. "I feel like such an asshole."

_Lord, why do you keep putting me in situations like this?_ Antonio prayed in his head, his hand coming up to grasp his hidden cross. Francis eyed him as if looking for advice. Antonio supposed that served as an answer. "Okay, enough of this!" he exclaimed as he snatched up the rum bottle and whirled toward the cabinets. After he stored the bottle away where it belonged, he turned back to Francis with his hands on his hips and a very winning pout. "I'm going to let Gil in, so you go to your room, kay? He'll run away if we take any longer!" Gilbert would and maybe this time he wouldn't come back.

A wry smile twisted Francis' lips. "You're being awful responsible today." He pushed back his chair and looked at Antonio. The look in his eyes made the other man blink. It was strangely soft and unfamiliar. Why was Francis looking at him with such tenderness, like he couldn't appreciate them being together more than he did now.

"W-wait, don't look at me like that! It's freaking me out!" Antonio exclaimed. Confusion took over on Francis' face and Antonio sighed in relief. "Ah really you, don't make it sound like I want to be responsible!" He dropped to his knees next to the other's chair, wrapping arms around Francis' waist. There on his friend's lap, Antonio dropped his head. "Stop making me be the responsible one. I'm no good at it, Francis. Be 'big brother' again, kay?"

But Francis just shook his head. He dropped a hand on top of Antonio's and mussed his brown curls. It felt like he could bury his hands deep into that hair, so deep he wouldn't be able to find his fingers. Francis resisted though. "Sorry, but I think you're doing a better job right now than I could. At least no one can hate you when you smile."

Antonio cried out at that. "No one hates you either! That's the…"

"…problem isn't it?" Francis chuckled as he ended the sentence. Silence settled over them again. "I'm going to my room now. You've got to let go, Toni." Slowly the tanned arms slipped away from his middle. Francis stood and walked away. Before he reached his room though, he turned back. Antonio still knelt on the floor. Francis swallowed hard as he forced his words out. "Tell Gilbert it's alright to be a little stubborn." He slipped into his room and shut the door, leaving it open just enough that it didn't click into place. A hint? Antonio turned away with a thundering in his chest.

"Gilbert?" he called as he opened the front door again. Antonio found the younger man where he left him huddled on the porch. Gilbert jumped and shot his gaze up. "It's safe. Francis is in his room…in case you want to know." With that, Antonio turned away and let Gilbert slip past him inside. He nodded wordlessly and headed for his room. Antonio shut the door and trailed after. "Actually, I have something to say. I think-" The door slammed in his face. Antonio blinked then turned away, his face twisting. "Oh silly me, I forgot I'm no good at thinking!" He whirled into his room and fell onto the bed with a flail of arms and legs as he silently let out his frustration.


	14. Chapter 14

Morning came late, or as late as Monday mornings ever came for them. Rammstein blared through the house, on it's second run through of the alarm. Antonio knocked on Gilbert's door. "Gilbo, you need to go to class!" he called. Pausing, he wondered if bribery might work better. "Do you want an omelet? The tomatoes and spinach are still fresh." Nothing. "No? Pancakes then?" Antonio still remembered when Francis told him they, as the elders, should look after Gilbert. And the alarm really did hurt his ears. Francis hadn't moved from his room yet so that left Antonio.

Sighing, he decided to use his secret weapon. As often before, Gilbert left their connecting door unlocked and Antonio tip-toed through it. Wait, why was he tip-toeing? If Gilbert didn't wake up from that metal howling, then he wouldn't from Antonio sneaking in. He switched to stomping and jumped onto Gilbert's bed next to the huddled pile of blankets. "Wake up~!" he sung as he shook Gilbert. Nothing showed from under the huddled blankets, not a toe or strand of hair. Judging by the size of the lump, at least one stuffed animal was trapped under the blankets as well. "Time to go to school, baby birdie!"

"No! Don't wanna!" Gilbert whined. He definitely didn't wake if he didn't take offense to the baby comment. "I hate school!" Even his voice sounded high like a child's. Antonio collapsed on top of him and wrapped his limbs around the Gilbert lump. He picked at the edges of the blanket and tried to pry it up, though Gilbert obviously had his hands clenched in the material too. Antonio did manage to reveal a patch of creamy white hair.

"No you don't," he responded as he tugged on one of the strands. Not getting a reaction, Antonio yanked as hard as he could. He squeezed the body under him and clawed at the blankets. "Yah! I know you're awake! What are you, five?" He managed to yank Gilbert's head around by his hair. The squeezed closed eyes finally shot open with a yelp of pain. Gilbert bucked and dislodged Antonio's hand. A second later, his red eyes widened more.

"Antonio?" Gilbert questioned. "Why are you on top of me?!"

Antonio looked down at himself. There he was again sitting on top of Gilbert wearing naught but his boxers. "Oops, my bad. I guess you weren't awake after all. I didn't say anything much, don't worry," Antonio flashed a smile half-innocent, and half-sheepish. Gilbert narrowed his eyes at him. Antonio realized he still sat on his friend and slid backwards to the bed. "See, I'm just waking you up!" For a second, they sat in silence like that with Gilbert staring at him, really staring. Antonio thought he made a mistake and started to inch backwards. Before he could make a foot of progress though, Gilbert flung himself into Antonio's arms.

"E-eh? Gilbert? Wake up already! This is getting weird!" Even though he saw Gilbert's eyes, the sign he finally woke up, he wasn't acting like a waking person. Antonio sat there with his arms out at his sides because maybe this was a sneak attack and the second he hugged Gilbert back, he'd get kicked in the ribs. He felt sure something similar happened before, but that might have been in a dream.

"You're still here. Ugh, please don't make me go to class. I really don't want to," Gilbert whispered, his voice taking on a watery quality.

Wait, still here? Antonio wasn't the one pulling away. Gilbert made less sense than normal. Antonio eyed him for a bit, then patted his back, still wary to complete the hug. After he decided how to act with this emotional Gilbert, he let out a hum. "That's fine with me. I'm happy to spend all day with you…and Francis too. Just like we used to when you and Fran skipped class to drink behind the dorm building with me! Except, without alcohol, and dorms. Oh, we can bake and garden just like on the weekends! I'm sure you'll have lot of fun too!" he exclaimed with growing excitement. A wheezing noise broke off his tirade. Gilbert threw back the rest of his covers and dropped out of the bed.

"A-actually, school doesn't sound bad after all. I'll see you after lunch, Toni!" Gilbert waved before nigh dashing out of the room. Before he could forget, Antonio turned off the alarm. He actually stopped hearing it minutes ago, like Rammstein could become background noise. Alone now, he rubbed the back of his neck with a lopsided smile.

"Oh well. A day of gardening did sound fun though."

Gilbert popped his head back in. "You weren't kidding about the omelets were you?" He stood with a hand on his hip, looking as cocky and demanding as when they first met, before they changed. Well, Gilbert was still Gilbert. Antonio burst out laughing and said he would make breakfast as he led the way to the kitchen.

Enough ingredients to make another omelet still sat out on the counter. After Gilbert left, maybe in time to make it to his class, Antonio burst into Francis' room. "Francy-france! Ooh! That's a good name. I should remember to use it again." He crawled into Francis' bed and curled along his back, arms around his waist. "Wakey-wakey eggs and cheesy," he cooed before he started to nibble on Francis' ear. Francis stirred and Antonio let his hands wander as he continued to tease him. All of a sudden, Francis rolled and a knee slammed into Antonio's stomach. He tumbled backwards off the bed and into the dresser with a yelp.

"You do know that my wake up time is set _thirty minutes _from now, right?" Francis growled. Antonio lay on the floor where he fell, one foot still perched on the bed. Well, that was new. Francis beat him up in the morning, not Gilbert. Antonio apparently prepared for pain at the wrong time.

"I know," Antonio answered after Francis grabbed his sheets around him again and curled up, back to Antonio. "But I wanted to talk to you. Can I make you an omelet?"

Francis huffed and didn't move. "In thirty minutes," he muttered, not giving Antonio the answer he wanted. The younger man pouted hard at the wall for all the good it did him. Before he could complain and ask again, Francis made himself more clear. "And I do not want to talk. Go away, Toni."

For a second, Antonio sat in silence. Then he breathed out and shuffled until he sat properly against the dresser. His head hurt, but the little pride he did have hurt more. He took another second to figure out how to do what both he and Francis wanted at the same time. "Hmkay, you don't have to talk to me. I'll just sit here and talk to myself because I like talking. Then in thirty minutes, I'll make you an omelet." Francis didn't disagree, though he said he was going to sleep. That was code wasn't it? He couldn't admit to listening, but it was an invitation for Antonio to speak his mind in a safe environment for both of them. Antonio sent up a little prayer of thanks, then jumped into his monologue.

Antonio discounted everything Gilbert told him last night on the porch. Then, he kept talking. He said how he felt. He could love them, given a chance. Francis shouldn't be pulling away just because he felt afraid and nor should Gilbert. Antonio wanted them to never split ways. That was the most important part. Francis once said rain couldn't be put back into clouds and he remembered it because what a neat saying. Today he thought it applied more than in most moments. Why would Francis run forward then, but not now? Antonio kept talking and talking. "Hey, if I were to fall in love with you too, would you still be able to run away? I'm serious, I want something more."

Since Francis pretended to sleep, Antonio didn't expect an answer, but he still wanted one. A silent signal or maybe he would get his answer in a few days when Francis began to accept it. Antonio stood up and leaned over the other man. He saw closed eyes and a relaxed body. When he leaned closer, he felt the even breath of a sleeper against his cheek. Wait, didn't he just pretend? A panic rushed through Antonio as he looked down at his friend. Francis fell asleep. When did he fall asleep? Before Antonio could shake him awake and demand answers, Francis rolled onto his back with a stretch. One of his arms smacked Antonio in the face as he blinked open his eyes.

"Huh, you're still here?" Francis asked. Groaning, he rubbed at the sleep clinging to his eyes. Because of that, he missed the way Antonio's face fell as his sat up, his sheets pooling at his waist. Like nothing happened, he gathered a shirt from the closet to throw on. He knew Antonio watched him, but he needed to keep his face turned away, at least until he convinced his heart to stop acting so unusual and flip-floppy inside him. "The offer for breakfast still stands right?" he asked when he felt well enough to. When he turned toward Antonio though, his smile came out pasted on.

Without a word, Antonio nodded. He headed for the door and started muttering about the butter melting by the time he reached the kitchen. Once alone, Francis banged his head against the closet door, his face flushing deep red. "I didn't fall asleep immediately, idiot!"

xXx

Gilbert cleared his throat as they gathered in the living room two days later. "So…I've been thinking a lot lately and I made a decision. I needed to tell you guys first…" He shifted nervously, eyes darting this way and that until they settled on his friends. "I've decided I'm quitting school and moving back to Germany after this year ends."

"What?!" Antonio exclaimed. Francis cursed as he spilt hot coffee on his legs. After setting the mug aside, he focused on his slacks and dripping fingers. Antonio seemed to be the only one focused all on Gilbert. "You can't do that! Just because you fell in l-lo..v…e…" Antonio stuttered, his face flushing as he said the word that twisted them all up in knots.

Gilbert turned his head away as a flush rose on his face as well. "I-it's not just that! I said I really thought about it and I'm not running away from lo-" He cleared his throat. Crossing his arms, he turned back to the sets of eyes watching him. "I talked with my advisor yesterday and I'm about to fail out of two of my classes, I still don't know what I want to major in, I'm fucking homesick, and let's face it…I have nowhere else to go if I can't stay with you guys unless I go home." He just, he couldn't anymore. This was the smart decision. Logic said to go away. The things he wanted and the things he needed no long matched up, so he would do what he needed and only that.

Antonio bit back a sob. "Wait, we can still work this out. Just for those things? Why can't we still live together?" Gilbert shook his head and shrugged, as if to say Antonio knew. So why answer? Hugging his arms around himself to keep from falling apart, he backed up a step. If he loosened his grip, he'd shake himself to pieces, so Gilbert just shook his head like a broken doll. When Antonio jumped to his feet to follow, they engaged in this awkward dance out of the room. After a couple steps, Antonio glanced over his shoulder to see Francis still sitting on the couch, frozen. "Francis, make him stop. Tell him he doesn't have to go! Francis?" Antonio's pleas fell silent when the older man dropped his eyes.

While Antonio had his back turned, Gilbert made a dash for his room. Francis did nothing to stop it. "Gilbert!" Antonio yelled as he chased the younger man across the room. Gilbert slammed the door before Antonio got there and he jumped for the handle. Half a second too late, Antonio pulled against the lock. Eyes narrowed into slits of jade. On the other side of the door, Gilbert's eyes went wide. A heart beat passed and both dived for the other door.

Antonio actually screamed as he yanked against the lock with all his weight. Of course Gilbert got there first; from inside he had less distance to cover. Antonio kicked the door after he gave up pulling, then yelped at the sting in his toes. "You're being unreasonable. It's not a group discussion if you don't let anyone else talk! Gilbert Beilschmidt…I…I'm older than you and I order you to open this door right this instant!"

A snort of laughter answered him. "You've got to be kidding me! You think I'm going to listen because of that? Do you know me at all?!" Gilbert cackled. Antonio crossed his arms. This brat could be so stubborn sometimes. He was like a bad tempered cat who couldn't keep his claws in.

Antonio dropped his forehead against the door. "Yeah, I know everything about you. Haven't you noticed me always watching?" He whirled away as the bitter bite crept back into his voice. "If you ever paid me the same amount of attention, you'd realize there was still something here for you."

Gilbert's face burned with heat. What did Antonio mean? Had he really not been watching? What was it that he needed to see and why did Antonio use that tone—the sort that made Gilbert's heart squeeze. He sat on the floor with his knees pulled to his chest. Through the door, he heard Antonio's each little movement and then, him walking away. Gilbert wanted to drag Antonio into his room and bury himself in the man's warmth. He wanted to be comforted. He feared if he did that though, he'd scream 'love you' all over again and he would mean it for more than one person. Gilbert groaned and fell forward so he could beat his head against the floor. _This is so wrong. I'm in love with _both_ of them now! Is this even legal?_

Antonio stalked back into the living room where Francis still sat. The only difference was his mouth now hung open a bit with his eyes riveted on Gilbert's door. Before Antonio could stopper his feelings, a rush of anger took over him. He grabbed the coffee cup from the table and without ceremony, dumped it over Francis. "I really hate you right now," he said with a tight-lipped grin on his face. Francis jumped, letting out a curse as his eyes finally jumped to Antonio. When they met eyes though, Francis shrunk back—part from fear, part from guilt. He hung his head, feeling he deserved Antonio's words all too much.

Seeing that acceptance and weariness from Francis enraged Antonio more. This shouldn't be happening. He rose his voice, turning shrill. "Why are you giving up? I thought we promised to be together forever!" he shouted loud enough for the entire house to hear. Panic started in him, even as his body went numb. With that, he ran out of the back door because if he stayed any longer, he _would _break down doors. No one could say he wouldn't do anything to keep them together, even if he had to hold them against their will. They fought before this, but Antonio always knew they would make up, or at least have the chance. But not this time. How could forgiveness be given from a country away? He felt like he already lost Gilbert and that thought hurt him the most.

Hours later, Gilbert creaked his door open again. Poking his head out, he glanced around to make sure Antonio hadn't come back in. Gilbert caught sight of him brutalizing the garden with tunnel vision, so he made his way down the hall. In the course of one day, the people he needed to avoid flip-flopped. Well, he never intended to avoid his friends for long anyway. Still, he hesitated outside of Francis' room before slipping inside. There he found the man sitting on his bed with the clothes from earlier in his lap. Although scrubbed clean, he stared down at them as if mourning their loss. Francis looked up, his eyes blinking without focus.

Gilbert cleared his throat. "Can we talk?" Francis' eyes finally sharpened, realizing no dream stood in front of him, but something real. He went stiff. Gilbert just kept waiting until he nodded his head though. The younger man fumbled with his hands, then stepped closer, stopping half a foot from the bed's edge. "Can we still be friends?"

Francis furrowed his brow. "Eh?" He didn't expect that. But after close inspection, he saw only seriousness on Gilbert's face. "Aren't you the one who wants to go an ocean away. I don't think I'm the one who has issues being friends here," he complained. Even if Francis did have issues with it, didn't Gilbert make problems in the first place?

Gilbert bit his lip and flushed a little. Francis realized he held his phone, clutched against his chest. "We can still call though. I really did think about this. It's not that I never want to see you guys again. If possible…I want us to stay important to each other…" It would be smart to pull away and get over his crush. Gilbert just didn't think he could. Some distance he needed, but he wanted to break down when he thought of cutting off from his friends forever. A clean break? No matter what, he couldn't end things that way.

Francis lifted a hand to drag through his hair. His crinkled shirt tumbled to his sheets and he remembered what happened earlier and Antonio's words._ I hate you._ Damn, he preferred being loved to that. He was Francis, player extraordinare. If Gilbert wanted to be his friend, he would switch off the perv-dar and be Gilbert's friend. He could turn relationships off like flipping off the stove's heat. How many years did he already put on a false smile to please the pretty faces? This would be a piece of cake, or pie, because he always thought those were easier to bake. Francis smiled and said one word. "Okay."

Gilbert breathed out a sigh of relief. He didn't realize how tense he got until he felt it whisk away. Still twisting his phone between his hands, he hesitated to speak. "You're not angry with me about…you know?" he asked, referring to Alissa. Francis understood without him having to elaborate. The older man groaned and dropped his face into a hand.

"You…really." Francis shook his head without lifting it. "I guess not. I mean, I'm seriously not happy with the how, but I'm not angry that you did it. I don't know. It's a little soon to be asking me that." He peeked out between his fingers to show off hard blue eyes and a frown. It was better than outright anger or rejection though. Gilbert didn't expect to be forgiven, certainly not this soon.

A shout from outside interrupted their conversion. "I hate tomatoes!" A clang followed, making both of them jump.

Gilbert winced and glanced toward the backyard. "…I'm going to fix that too." Francis raised his eyebrow. "Just, after it's safe. I saw what he was doing to those strawberries!" Gilbert added with a shudder. He wanted to have this conversation with Antonio, but he valued his neck un-strangled. Shaking his head, he motioned back out of Francis' room. "So, want me to teach you a trick to get coffee stains out. My uncle's family was like, super stingy so we wore our clothes until they fell off. Don't tell anyone, but I know how to sew a patch!" he exclaimed.

Francis laughed and let Gilbert lead him to the kitchen. You learned something new every day. Staying friends…yes. He could at least use that interesting tidbit later then. As Gilbert carried his supplies out of the room where they could have better light, the doorbell rang. "I'll get that," Francis called. Feeling far more chipper, he swung open the door with a smile. A taller man stood on the other side, pulling awkwardly at the scarf around his neck. He flashed a smile that put Antonio's to shame with it's cuteness.

"Hello. I am looking for a man, Gilbert," the stranger said in stilted English. That accent sounded foreign. German? It made enough sense that Francis just shrugged and turned over his shoulder.

"Gil, there's someone at the door for you!" Francis heard footsteps approach along with mumbling about salt and no good vinegar.

Gilbert looked up as he reached the door. Whoever waited beyond stood well over Francis' head and he saw light blonde hair before he got close enough to see out the door. A smile met Gilbert's eye, wide like a child's, but not reaching his violet eyes. Shaggy hair with a slight wave, a mauve scarf that looked out of place in this city, stocky legs, a barrel chest. _Impossible._ The box of baking soda and a beer bottle fell out of Gilbert's arms. His voice squeaked as his eyes went wide.

"Ivan?"

* * *

((Heeeey. Been a while, again. I'm so neglectful of my fanfics right now, but I'm going to try to finish up this story. Remember to review and let me know what you think! There's still quite a few chapters left, so don't try to guess the ending yet! :D))


	15. Chapter 15

Warning: chapter is emotionally intense. Could be a trigger to some.

* * *

Ivan? Wait, the ex-boyfriend Ivan? Francis snapped his eyes away from Gilbert's shocked expression to the smiling man in front of him. Who was this showing up at a time of weakness?

When Ivan caught sight of the shorter white-haired man, his face broke out in dangerous grin. It still looked childish, but Gilbert didn't see anything innocent in that smile. "Little bunny, you have no idea how hard it was to find you," he answered in German, the common language easiest for them to converse in. Ivan's English studies never went far. "And what a surprise to see you living with another man. Is he your new boyfriend? How cute!"

Gilbert's eyes went wide. Forgetting all about Francis, now standing behind and glancing between them, Gilbert started screeching in German. "What the hell are you doing here?! How did you even find me, bastard? No…just, get the hell away from me!" Ivan's words stilled his heart, making it hard to yell. Gilbert stood frozen in the doorway. Shit…just shit, shit, shit. He suppressed a shudder as he glanced back at Francis. He flashed pleading eyes back to Ivan. "It's not what you think! Friends! We're just friends!" He felt himself start to panic which only made Ivan smile more.

"Oh, how lovely. I'd hate for someone to get hurt," Ivan answered. He let out a hum which made Gilbert flinch. "Is that smell coffee? You know how I love a good dark roast." He shifted closer, smiling, always smiling. Those large pale hands clasped together in front of his chest. His foot landed in the doorway and Gilbert snapped.

"You're not invited in!" he howled. He hurled the door closed and fell against it. Hands fumbled against the locks before he got them in place. He couldn't breathe. Air, where the hell did air go? He gulped desperately as he felt his legs go weak. No, he couldn't collapse here. Not out in the open. He needed to…he needed…

Gilbert yelped when a hand grabbed his shoulder. "Stay away from me!" Francis cried out in surprise as Gilbert swatted his hand away. He whirled around and, oh right, Francis. He grabbed the older man's shoulder, his red eyes blown wide. "You're just my friend. You're definitely just my friend! Oh shit!"

"Gil?! What's going on?!" Francis staggered back from Gilbert's strength. He winced as fingers bit deep into his shoulders, the force of their grasp turning dangerous. Francis tried to pry Gilbert's hands away, but he couldn't even loosen his grip. "What did that guy say to you?!" Gilbert echoed the question without a hint of understanding it.

A second later, his eyes went wide again. "Crap, he can get in the back door!" With that, he tore off through the house. Feeling confused and worried, Francis trailed after him, too dazed to stop the younger man. Gilbert flew out the back door and Antonio's head shot up. He barely opened his mouth to question his friend's presence when Gilbert descended on him, screaming at the top of his lungs. "Get inside! Get inside now, damn it!"

One of Antonio's eyebrows quirked as he squared his jaw. "Gilbert, why are you screaming…Ah!" Antonio cried out as Gilbert grabbed his wrist. He narrowed his eyes, still too irritated for human interaction. Gilbert yanked harder though and Antonio lost their tugging battle. He was dragged inside, still stuttering in protest. The second the pair made it inside, Gilbert swung him into Francis who had to catch Antonio's fall. Gilbert jumped back to the door, locking it with a fumble of fingers. "What's going on in here?!" Antonio exclaimed as soon as he got his footing back. Francis didn't let him out of his grip though.

"That's…oh, the windows. What if he's watching us from there? I've got to…t-the curtains!" Gilbert stammered all over his words as he turned toward the sunny windows lining their living room. Before he could run past the other two though, Francis grabbed his arm and off-balanced him enough to pull backwards. Gilbert flailed under his strong momentum and slid to the floor, his arm still held in Francis' grip. "No, no…I seriously don't feel good. Let me go!" Gilbert cried with a feeble yank at his arm. Francis let him go as he dropped to his knees beside him. Antonio watched this with pure confusion. He met Francis' eye for some kind of explanation. Francis looked back, just as frazzled and out of place.

"I don't know either. His ex-boyfriend showed up at the door, I think, and they yelled at each other in German and now Gil's freaking out," Francis explained as best he could. He looked down, but Gilbert didn't elaborate on the story either. Francis wrapped his arms around the other man who might as well have been in another world for all they seemed to be able to reach him. Gilbert sat on the floor, clutching at his chest as he tried to keep speaking. He couldn't seem to though. Antonio's instincts quickly overrode his confusion and misgivings. He dropped down in front of Gilbert and helped him lean forward.

"Hey now, breathe. Look at me!" Antonio framed his face and forced Gilbert to look him in the eye. "You're with us. You're safe." He realized now that Gilbert acted terrified—heart-stopping, painful to see terrified, to a degree far more intense than any other freak-out episode he ever had. Gilbert could freak out like a pro, but he never looked so stricken. Antonio flashed Francis another desperate look. He moved to rubbing Gilbert's back as Francis bit back a series of curses.

"Shit, Gil. What the hell did that guy do to you?!" Francis snapped. Gilbert's head whipped up, his eyes boring into Francis so much he actually reeled backwards.

"What he did to me? He fucking put me in the hospital is what!" Gilbert snarled. That someone would dare ask him about his rightful panic pissed him off. His emotions weren't reasonable anymore. "After I broke up with him, he beat me. With a tire iron! Do you know how many bones he broke?" Gilbert slapped Antonio's hand away from, still pissed at anything and everything—Antonio's tender touch, the way Francis bent over, a hand to his mouth as he tried not to throw up. And oh god, that pity in their eyes. Did they think he wanted to be looked at that way? And yet, Gilbert understood why. He knew these looks, the same ones his family gave when he woke up in the hospital.

"N-no way," Antonio stuttered. "Why would someone do that? Why didn't you ever say anything?" All of a sudden, a realization dawned on him. He suppressed the shiver that went down his spine. "There's more to it isn't there?" Gilbert stuck his hands in his his lap so that his head hung lower than his bunched up shoulders.

Francis still felt sick to his stomach, but he inched closer again. The moment Gilbert said tire iron, images splashed across his imagination, filling it with a pale, broken body. He never wanted to imagine someone he cared about that way. He always had a weak stomach for violence. Why couldn't he keep those images away then? Sitting in front of Gilbert, Francis dropped his hands over the other's fists, covering them with his larger hands. "You can tell us. No judgement."

Gilbert shook as a sigh loosened his muscles. He didn't meet his friends' eyes, but he could breathe easier. Antonio's hand still left warmth on his back and the tight hold Francis kept over his hands stopped them from shaking. With his eyes slipping closed, Gilbert let the past well up in him again as he started to speak. "I've known Ivan most of my life. The last year of school, he asked me out and I said yes. I'd never been in love before. He was my first…pretty much everything. He made me feel special and so completely in love. Bit by bit, I let him creep into my life and take it over." Gilbert breathed in deep. He kept his eyes closed because he really didn't want to know how they looked at him. "The first time he hit me, I figured I deserved it. I got drunk and acted like a total douche insulting him. After that, some kind of door opened. A little here, a little there…the relationship changed so gradual I didn't notice."

"Gilbert!" Antonio exclaimed as he squeezed the younger man around the middle. No other words came to mind. What could he say? What words would express everything going on in his mind? He supposed it was for the best he couldn't figure out what to say because Gilbert kept talking without pause. Antonio didn't even know if he noticed his friends crowded up against him.

"How was I supposed to know my boyfriend was a sadist with a smile? That he held a grudge for all the years I bullied him as a kid because he was foreign and midget-like? No one should expect him to grow into the sort of tall, impressive guy that's utterly my type. And the best part, I still totally loved him! Because for half a year, all he did was give me gifts and say 'love you, love you,' like some kind of broken record. When he wasn't bad, that same guy came back. He always apologized, said his anger got the best of him. But it shouldn't matter anyway because I'm the one who said I liked rough play in the first place. Because ya know, I wanted him to fuck me up. I just didn't realize I gave power over to someone who wouldn't respect it."

"Wait, don't make this sound like your fault! There's no way you can excuse something like that!" Francis exclaimed. He now fully appreciated the look of understanding Gilbert wore when he mentioned abuse. What the heck was this? A nightmare fairytale? He curled again as his stomach lurched. A hand dropped onto his leg, rubbing, and he looked up in surprise. Antonio looked between him and Gilbert like he wanted to wrap around them both, but wasn't big enough for it. He chewed on his lip and it struck Francis that no one else could comfort a person like Antonio. He wasn't any good at it himself.

Gilbert pulled away with a disgusted snort. Antonio and Francis couldn't move fast enough to keep him there. Pacing across the room, Gilbert moved with stiff steps. When he turned back though, a smirk lit up his face. He pointed one finger at his friends still sitting on the floor. "Don't look at me like I'm some kind of victim!" A short laugh escaped his pursed lips. His eyes shone, matching the utter conviction and superiority on his face. "Oh, I got even. No one fucks me over and expects me to just cry about it. I got a friend to slander him all over the internet…well, it's not slander if it's true. Because really, someone needed to say something. He got kicked out of school and no one ever knew it was about me. Perfect right? Even if it meant getting beat with a tire iron after, it was totally worth it." Gilbert gestured toward the other two, half jabbing a finger and half beckoning with his hand. Did he want a response?

"Yeah perfect," Francis and Antonio echoed, too numb from Gilbert's speech to know what they were saying. Antonio managed to get to his feet, though Francis stayed on the floor. He didn't think his legs would work. His mind certainly wasn't. Antonio didn't know if it was alright to get close to Gilbert or not, so he stood by Francis and let the older man cling to his hand. Or was Antonio the one clinging? He didn't know anymore. "…Wait, no it's not. Why is revenge worth that?" Antonio knew Gilbert went eye for an eye when slighted, but he couldn't understand anything being worth a beating like that. Wasn't Gilbert the one not making sense here?

Gilbert shook his head as he stopped pacing. "But I didn't do it for myself no matter how good it felt. It wasn't just revenge. Something like that isn't going to break me. No matter what, I'm strong! No one can take my pride, but…not everyone can fight back like me." He tilted his body away, not quite looking at his audience, but not quite hiding either. He clutched at his arm and glanced back at the other two. Passion burned on his face even as a tremble went through him. "Looking at me, would you guess it? I'm great right?" he crowed, his voice gaining momentum. "But I needed to protect others from him. Most people wouldn't hold their head high after being told they wanted to get hit, or that no one else would love them because they're an idiot with a temper and no money, or they're too different looking and have a bad attitude. So really, I _had _to do it because I fucking could!"

Ten seconds of silence turned into twenty. Francis pulled on Antonio's hand to get his attention. He understood without needing words and pulled Francis to his feet. It looked like Gilbert finally finished talking. They watched the blaze in his eyes that still filled the room despite its silence. All around them, shadows gathered as the sun set. The room, which had been cheery in with natural light, now turned dim, but not yet so dark that they couldn't see without trouble.

A giant shudder went through Gilbert. Without any warning, the dam in his tear-edged eyes broke. He didn't make a noise as the rivers rolled down his cheeks, not a sniffle, not a sob. It was like the silence grew too thick to stand. He didn't feel the tears coming either, but the second he calmed himself from the tirade, they jumped out. Gilbert squeezed his eyes shut and choked out a few words. "I need to sit!" His legs stopped working though. If he unlocked his knees, he would just slide to the floor.

Antonio reached his side first and led Gilbert to the couch. He dropped Gilbert there and hesitated before Francis beckoned him over to where he stood a few feet behind. Gilbert looked like he mentally left anyway so Antonio didn't feel guilty about leaving his side. The man sat with his hands on his knees, crying like he didn't notice he cried. They would be within eyesight anyway. "What are we going to do?" Francis exclaimed in a whisper as he grabbed Antonio's shoulders. He just shook his head in response. A sniffle broke his voice when he tried to speak.

"I want that man dead," Antonio hissed past his need to cry. Francis dropped his hands and looked away. Unlike when most people said that, Antonio meant it. Threats didn't just live in a heated moment, a simple saying to express anger. He meant them in truth. Francis thanked God that he never incurred that kind of wrath himself even if he saw it before. He shifted and glanced over at Gilbert. The top of his hair was all they could see from over the couch's back. Francis chose not to answer. He didn't want to encourage Antonio by saying Ivan deserved it, but he couldn't bring himself to tell Antonio no either. Francis just changed the topic entirely.

"Just…shit. We knew something happened to him." They both saw the signs in moments Gilbert hesitated to touch or be touched in certain ways. He said things and hinted long ago that Ivan hurt him. Francis guessed already. Seeing it though? He never expected something to this extent. A half sigh, half laugh came out of Francis, not the least bit joyful. It eased some of the tension though. "God, Gil's right about one thing. He doesn't read like a victim at all. I saw something lurking in his closet, but no matter what I expected, it's an entirely different thing to see." Francis never expected to witness so much emotion and pain and then that _strength_. It awed him when he saw Gilbert's conviction because how could someone stand there like that and look so unbreakable? It left Francis out of breath.

An odd, squeaky noise escaped Antonio. Francis reached out and pulled the other man into his arms. "How can he act so alright and then suddenly not be alright at all? I want to kill that guy. I really want to kill him," Antonio sniffled. Francis rubbed his arms and he leaned into the warmth the other man gave him. "I mean, what if he hurts Gilbert again?"

"Or us," Francis added on. Antonio pulled back to look at him in confusion. The other man shrugged his shoulder in response. "That creep smiled when he looked at me. Gil kept saying we're friends, just friends, like he was desperate to put distance between us. I guess he was afraid since I opened the door. That must look very domestic and all. Guys like Ivan get possessive. How do you think he'd react, seeing his ex living happily with two guys?" Looking at it from that perspective, Francis figured it was only a matter of time before disaster befell them.

Antonio stared back at him, serious. He needed to weigh this new information. After a minute, he shook his head. "If Gilbert didn't go to the police then, I doubt he will now. Maybe Ivan just wanted some answers?" Maybe he didn't come here to make trouble. Antonio could hope at least. He wanted to make trouble himself, but he also realized he might be the only one protecting his friends. He was strong, but not a fighter either. Gilbert wasn't in a state to do anything unless pushed and Francis…he must feel terrified even if it didn't show on his face. He didn't belong in the seedy side of life. "…I think we can only wait."

Why did this have to come now when they already hurt so much? The silence shocked Francis' ear and he wandered back to the couch and checked on Gilbert. The emotional exhaustion won against the young man. Everything inside of him seemed to have seeped, leaving just a husk behind. Unfocused eyes stared at the far wall, just off the corner of the tv, revealing a person who was awake, but not conscious. Francis turned back to Antonio.

"I'm going to order a pizza. Tomatoes? Mushroom? You want that one with the Italian sausage on it?" he asked. It didn't feel like a good night for cooking and greasy, low-class food tasted divine with stress. Antonio hummed in agreement, not really answering any of the questions. Francis accepted the answer though and searched for the pizza place's number. "How about you sit with Gil and…" Francis snapped his fingers as he remembered something. "…the panda."

Antonio's eyelids crinkled as he nodded, the faintest bit of a smile on his face. Francis left to make his phone call and Antonio slipped into Gilbert's room. The panda sat on top of his pillows like usual and he brought it back to the couch. This he sat on Gilbert's lap. No reaction showed on his face, but his arms wrapped around the animal as if on instinct. Antonio turned on the tv and gathered up two game controllers. He set one in Gilbert's hands which he kept hold of, though still dazed. "Want to play a game with me? You know I'm really lost in the fire temple and I can't remember how to equip my other weapon. You're going to have to show me again," he encouraged with a nudge to Gilbert's arm.

Too much silence passed and Antonio thought he went wrong. But the younger man just clicked through the introductory scenes and picked Antonio's game. The familiar music drew Gilbert's attention and he focused on the screen. "…I told you to go left. It's because you keep walking in circles that you'll never find the boss."

xXx

It wasn't easy to fall back into normalcy after that. Antonio glanced at Gilbert who slept on the couch, panda and blanket tucked around him. He refused to go to his room after the eventful day. It seemed to comfort him that his friends stayed near, but at least he didn't look afraid anymore. Antonio smoothed the blanket edge over Gilbert's bare toes. On the rug, Francis wrapped himself into a cocoon with the comforter they laid out. Since he didn't normally steal covers, it surprised Antonio when he woke up relegated to the far corner of the rug without so much as a blanket edge. It must have been the cool air. Just being the cool air, Antonio expected the weirdness to end there.

But two days passed and normal had yet to set in. Or maybe he should say, normal went farther away. What was he comparing normal to anyway? Maybe this was normal, but it felt strange. That thought mattered most. Antonio found himself in the living room yet again, staring at Gilbert as he slept on the couch. The familiar scene lacked his panda, but Gilbert must have thought that after sleeping on the couch for the past few days, he looked too much like a baby. He sacrificed the panda first for the sake of pride. However, he didn't give up the other quirks he developed.

For starters, no drinking of alcohol, and he started working out when left alone too long. He went out running every day, always around their neighborhood; Antonio saw him often from the window in the mornings. Gilbert tried to wake earlier than anyone else and he usually did, getting back from his jog when Antonio still sat at the table, amusing himself with folding objects out of the newspaper. The newspaper came Sunday and he liked to save a page to play with each day until the next came. Sometimes, he read the stories too.

That wasn't today though. On days like this one, Gilbert got up early too many times in a row and finally crashed until noon. Though Antonio suspected he didn't do much sleeping those nights he woke early. How else would he manage the feat? And yet, all of these oddities weren't the most disturbing. The conversation that took place the morning after Ivan's appearance made the least sense, and yet the most of all. Antonio still remembered the casual way Gilbert ended them.

"I wasn't joking about ending things between us. We can't look like more than roommates," Gilbert said in between sips of coffee. The other two just stared at him at the time. They didn't comprehend enough to say anything back. "Just forget about it all. We were only ever friends anyway." He set his cup down, still without a hitch in his voice. So casual, so logical about it. Inside his mind though, Gilbert could only think about how a relationship would get someone killed.

Those words shouldn't have shocked them so much. Neither Antonio or Francis slept with Gilbert since before Thanksgiving. Sure they invited him, but after he admitted his love, it pretty much ended there. Even then, the avenue still felt open though, like Gilbert might break down given time. Never before did he end things so cleanly, so without argument. He never _said _that he wanted to end them until now.

Antonio stood again, shaking his head at Gilbert's sleeping figure. "You didn't have to say it like we never shared anything at all." He couldn't say one way or another if what existed between them was the love Gilbert wanted, but he knew they created something special. There was at least some kind of love here.

He jumped and whirled when he heard noise behind him. Francis yawned into his hand, his hair looking more matted than Gilbert's ever did on his worst day. Antonio raised an eyebrow. "Being a grad student sucks," Francis offered in explanation as he exited his room. He glanced at the couch, then over at Antonio. "Another peaceful morning, ah…" He checked his watch that he preferred to more modern time-keeping methods. It was so proper that Antonio wanted to laugh. "Yep, it's still morning. Hard to tell when you fall asleep not long before dawn," he added with an eye roll. The work relaxed him though and he didn't mind a late night. It let him forget the rest of his life for a while. Art had that idyllic quality, like life glazed over in rose. The same way most people fell into the fantasy world of a book, he fell into paintings.

Antonio chuckled. "You're very serious when you want to be. Too bad you can't do Gil's homework for him. If he really does fail, he'll lose his scholarship and we won't have a choice. No more UCLA. No more _LA_." A sad smile pulled one corner of Antonio's mouth as he leaned over the couch back to poke Gilbert's cheek. They only had a month left in this quarter after all. Not a lot of time to turn things around. If he couldn't continue school through the rest of the year, would he leave even earlier? They decided to rent their home for two years, until Gilbert and Francis finished their degrees. It seemed like an obvious choice at the time.

"He doesn't have class today does he? Why don't you suggest he do his work." Gilbert got worse over this last month. Francis considered them lucky he went to class at all. How a person could be as brilliant as Gilbert and so completely uninspired baffled Francis. He waved a hand at Antonio in dismissal. "After all, you're the only one here who doesn't have anything better to do."

Antonio's face fell. "I can't help I got fired from the flower shop," he muttered, kicking his foot at the floor. "Some meanie had to say I was _too _friendly with the customers. What does that even mean?" He huffed. They hired him because his smile sold flowers to the girls. He was told to flirt with them. Maybe the girls figured out he was gay and felt cheated? Antonio really didn't think he did anything wrong. He needed a steady job because he was about to turn into a loafer. He may have refined the art of mooching off friends and strangers, but he had this wild dream that one day he wouldn't need to.

Francis chuckled and pressed a playful kiss to Antonio's cheek. "Now now, don't complain. Their boyfriends probably just got jealous because you're cuter than them." He waved and headed for the bathroom, leaving Antonio shaking his head with a grin. "I have to turn in this paper, so I'm going to do all the errands too. Make a list if there's anything you need, kay!" he exclaimed before shutting the door. He managed to sound chipper for someone running on four hours of sleep. That could be the loopyness that came with sleep deprivation though. Despite everything going on now, they managed to smile some. Antonio turned back to Gilbert who hadn't moved despite the conversation going on over him.

"If only you'd start to smile too…"

xXx

That night, Gilbert hunkered down on the couch like it wasn't lumpy and stained. His own kicking abused it even more. Antonio considered it a miracle he didn't wake on the floor every morning with how much he tossed in his sleep. Though he supposed it would be easier to sleep in a bed, Gilbert never did so without explanation. The second night, he did try, but the others woke up to him on the couch. What made him move in the middle of the night? Antonio felt odd alone in his own bed with the empty room next door, so he slipped down the hall to Francis' and opened the door.

The older man rolled over and grunted at him, having already turned his lights out. "Can I sleep here tonight?" Antonio asked. Francis stared at him for a minute, but his half awake brain eventually made the right connections. He mumbled in agreement and shifted over with a pat to the bed. Antonio slid under the covers next to him. No words came because they didn't need them. Both knew well enough that he came because of loneliness. Francis just rolled on top of Antonio and looked down at his face like he missed it. He only knew one way to comfort another and he and Antonio fell naturally into it. It had been far too long since they touched each other.

Francis trailed a hand down Antonio's bare chest. He felt the skin there and paused just one second to feel his heartbeat, but it did nothing for him. A strange look passed over Antonio's face, like he might feel the same offness. He still brushed a hand against Francis' waistband. Rather than insist on more though, he sighed and dropped his hand back to the bed. Francis shook his head and rolled back. "It doesn't feel right at all." Knowing they lay together and Gilbert lay alone didn't feel right, even just to comfort each other. The three of them were officially nothing now so why did it feel like cheating?

"I miss him," Antonio whispered in a voice far too serious for him. "He's not even gone yet and I miss him." He stretched out on his side, facing Francis. For a minute, they just looked at each other. In the soft gold light of street lamps, cicadas calling outside, and the faint touch of ocean in the air, Francis realized something. He leaned over and pressed his lips to Antonio's.

"I don't want this," Francis said as if speaking the most astounding piece of information. Antonio looked at him in confusion. He shifted away a little, not sure if this meant him or their failed attempt to comfort each other since they already knew they didn't want that. Nothing could be more obvious. Francis shook his head, capturing Antonio's arm to keep him there. "I don't want this to be the end of us, any of us." The conviction in his voice brushed through the room. Francis let Gilbert pull away all this time because he was too afraid to love. He wasn't afraid anymore. His breath sent a shiver through Antonio, tickling his lips still inches from the other man's. Antonio lifted his eyes to meet Francis' and everything stilled. The feelings seemed to pass between them with the locking of their eyes so that the revelation taking over Francis took over Antonio as well. The younger man looked down as if he might see the change in his heart from here.

"Toni, I don't want Gilbert to leave. I want to fight for what we have."

* * *

(AN: I'm so sorry. I keep using Russia as a bad guy. I'm a little worried this chapter was a little too dramatic to believe, but it just developed that way. Is it out of character? Out of place in the story? I don't even know anymore after working on this fic for so long. Let me know what you think.

And I swear I'll write a happy RusPrus fic one day! X.X I love you Ivan...)


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